West Side Rentals

West LA is a fraud

The song of songs is that song no one sings

A burlesque in dirty black peignoirs 

Here on Earth, every day is Halloween

It’s beautiful if you frequent the grammy’s

Though you may end up feeling like a w***e

The song of songs is the one no one sings

Gas station bums huffing baggies of gasoline

Tranny hookers on meth, high and wanting more

On Earth, each and every day is Halloween

Lived vicariously out on a television screen

Nothing to worry about but bedsores

The song of songs is the one no one sings

While Maria is down on her hands and knees

Sanguine, covered in bleach, scrubbing their floors

For her, this whole place is Halloween

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, scream

You’re dead and watch out, St. Peter’s at the door

The song of songs is the one no one sings

Here on Earth, every day is Halloween