Birthday in Los Angeles - The Maine

L.A., pick up the phone

I need to talk to you

Stop sleeping with my new friends

And all the old ones too

Remember when we met?

I thought you thought I was boring

Then you called me on the phone

To arrange my birthday party

Well this ain’t a scripted movie

I don’t drive a fancy car

Those flashing lights don’t mean a thing to me

Goodbye, LA

Da da da da da da da

You showed me around the house

You took me by the wrist

Introduced me to your pals

The scientologists

We cut the cake and sang

And I tried to fake a smile

And I drank and drank and drank

Because I felt so out of style

Well this ain’t my birthday party

No, It’s just a fashion show

Yeah this is something it just isn’t me

So long, L. A

Da da da da da da da

So long, L. A

Da da da da da da da

I do miss Hollywood

Enjoy the hazy city

I’m sure you’re feeling good

But soon enough you’ll miss me

I ain’t got too much money

And nobody knows my name

But here is something I just have to say:

Fuck you, L. A