Lyrics
|
My
|
body
|
is
|
a
|
map
|
of
|
LA
|
I
|
stand
|
straight
|
like
|
an
|
angel
|
with
|
a
|
halo
|
Hangin'
|
out
|
the
|
Hilton
|
Hotel
|
window
|
Screamin',
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"Hey,
|
you,
|
baby,
|
let's
|
go"
|
My
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chest,
|
the
|
Sierra
|
Madre
|
My
|
hips,
|
every
|
high
|
and
|
byway
|
|
Lyrics
|
That
|
you
|
trace
|
with
|
your
|
fingertips
|
like
|
a
|
Toyota
|
Run
|
your
|
hands
|
over
|
me
|
like
|
a
|
Land
|
Rover
|
In
|
Arcadia,
|
Arcadia
|
All
|
roads
|
that
|
lead
|
to
|
you
|
as
|
intergral
|
to
|
me
|
as
|
arteries
|
That
|
pump
|
the
|
blood
|
that
|
flows
|
|
Lyrics
|
straight
|
to
|
the
|
heart
|
of
|
me
|
America,
|
America
|
I
|
can't
|
sleep
|
at
|
home
|
tonight,
|
send
|
me
|
a
|
Hilton
|
Hotel
|
Or
|
a
|
cross
|
on
|
the
|
hill,
|
I'm
|
a
|
lost
|
little
|
girl
|
Findin'
|
my
|
way
|
to
|
you,
|
Arcadia
|
My
|
body
|
is
|
|
Lyrics
|
a
|
map
|
of
|
LA
|
And
|
my
|
heart
|
is
|
like
|
paper,
|
I
|
hate
|
you
|
I'm
|
not
|
from
|
the
|
land
|
of
|
the
|
palms,
|
so
|
I
|
know
|
I
|
can't
|
stay
|
here
|
I'm
|
not
|
native,
|
but
|
My
|
curves,
|
San
|
Gabriel
|
all
|
day
|
And
|
|
Lyrics
|
my
|
lips
|
like
|
the
|
fire
|
licks
|
the
|
bay
|
If
|
you
|
think
|
that
|
you
|
know
|
yourself,
|
you
|
can
|
come
|
over
|
Lay
|
your
|
hands
|
on
|
me
|
like
|
you're
|
a
|
Land
|
Rover
|
In
|
Arcadia,
|
Arcadia
|
All
|
roads
|
that
|
lead
|
to
|
you
|
as
|
|
Lyrics
|
intergral
|
to
|
me
|
as
|
arteries
|
That
|
get
|
the
|
blood
|
flowing
|
straight
|
to
|
the
|
heart
|
of
|
me
|
America,
|
I
|
need
|
a
|
miracle
|
I
|
can't
|
sleep
|
at
|
home
|
tonight,
|
send
|
me
|
a
|
Hilton
|
Hotel
|
Or
|
a
|
cross
|
on
|
the
|
hill,
|
|
Lyrics
|
I'm
|
a
|
lost
|
little
|
girl
|
Findin'
|
my
|
way
|
to
|
you,
|
Arcadia
|
They
|
built
|
me
|
up
|
three-
|
hundred
|
feet
|
tall
|
just
|
to
|
tear
|
me
|
down
|
So
|
I'm
|
leavin'
|
with
|
nothing
|
but
|
laughter,
|
and
|
this
|
town
|
Arcadia
|
Findin'
|
my
|
way
|
|
Lyrics
|
to
|
you
|
I'm
|
leavin'
|
them
|
as
|
I
|
was,
|
five-
|
foot-
|
eight,
|
Western
|
belt
|
Plus
|
the
|
hate
|
that
|
they
|
gave
|
By
|
the
|
way,
|
thanks
|
for
|
that,
|
on
|
the
|
way,
|
I'll
|
pray
|
for
|
you
|
But
|
you'll
|
need
|
a
|
miracle,
|
America
|
|