Dogs Of L.A. - Liz Phair

The canyon air is like a breath of fresh L.A.

I was a Star Trek crew member, with my Beatle boots and my Super-8

And I raced you to the top, the camera gets a stuttered shot

Of me approaching a painted shrine

I kissed the Buddah and made him cry

I kissed the Buddah and made him cry

Georgie, I’m your friend

And the shit-brown reservoir is a testament to the dogs of L.A.

They hold the place like the mafia, and say, Run me around again.

The sawed-off tree trunks stand among the living palms

You were beaming as I focused in, and I panned along

And I raced you to the top, kicking snakes up from dusty rocks

Young Abe Vigoda plays Frankenstein

I kissed the Buddah and made him cry

I kissed the Buddah and made him cry

Georgie, I’m your friend

And the shit-brown reservoir is a testament to the dogs of L.A.

They hold the place like the mafia, and say, Run me around again,

I wanna go again.

The shit-brown reservoir is a testament to the dogs of L.A.

They hold the place like the mafia, and say, Run me around again.