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Tough Luck, Crying Shame - Live

de The Damn Quails

There's a postcard, and a letter,
Mailed from golden shores of california
And a message sent solely to warn ya,
We're all fallin in, to the ocean
But don't look so sad,
'cus theres lots of cold beer and white sand
And i'm stuck in this beach, like a mad man

So baby don't call, i'll be home tomorrow
If you come home at all
And i drop to my knees,
And pray to the waves, who have so much to show ya, but nothin to say
Stuck in this summer, is where i'm gonna stay
Get me out of this city, and out of la

There's a stiff drink, and a cigatette,
And a chair that just can't wait to meet you
Parked at the top of this sand dune
And i've got this brand new tattoo

But don't look so shocked
'cus i'm ridin high in a rag top
And i'm burning my bridges with napalm

So baby don't write, i'll be home tomorrow
If you come home tonight
And i drop to my knees,
And pray to the waves, who have so much to show ya, but nothin to say,
But stuck in this summer is where i'm gonna stay
Get me out of this city, and out of la

La da da da da da da da, la da da da da da da a, la a a a

There's a postcard and a letter, mailed from goldenshores of california
And a message sent solely to warn ya,
We're all fallin in, to the ocean

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