the rain pours down on the southern town, though it's hotter than LA the gas lit flames dance through the night, lighting my way home with rusted roof tops stones below the smell of harbor in my brain
sitting in the bay I miss LA the girl that would decay
the roofs are lit with all the kids drink their sorrows down build with bricks and made with hate the memories inside the ghosts that follow me back home she's 6 feet underground
sitting in the bay I miss LA the girl that would decay