Оригинален текст
Living in L.A,
Living in the city.
Everything's a dream and the girls are pretty.
Everybody's talking
About making movies.
Marylin's gone now,
And so has James Dean.
Smiling faces everywhere,
On the Santa Monica pier.
How I wish you were here,
Walking down the Boulevard
I wrote you a letter,
Postcard from L.A
Light another cigarette
In a street cafe,
She just smiles and she looks the other way.
She knows it's easy,
But she knows it's not free,
As the lights go down
On this city by the sea.