Satellite signal says you’re
|
taking an earlier flight
|
Damascus to Heathrow via the
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City of Light
|
To the City of Angels
|
We ran down to kiss you
|
goodbye but they’re closing
|
the gatevs
|
Like warfare and drugs and
|
young lovers no one wants
|
to wait
|
In the City of Angels
|
Angels here in LAX
|
Baggage and parcels and
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burdens you’re leaving behind
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If you can’t take it with you
|
than why in the world would
|
you mind
|
Departures
|
Not looking for anything better,
|
this is all that there is
|
They’re out composing the
|
letters, I wear a shirt that is his
|
Departures
|
Departures here in LAX
|
There’s a shooting star
|
There’s a satellite
|
Orion and Pleiades
|
I’m down here on my knees
|
Look for the message carved
|
into the light
|
There’s the mission bell
|
There’s the telephone
|
Handclaps and marching bands
|
Drums from the Holy Land
|
Someone to tell us we’re not
|
alone
|
Here in LAX
|
She looks bewildered and
|
angry, lonely and scared
|
He’s drunk and raging and
|
splinters the cross that he bears
|
Departures
|
Like the last day of Indian
|
Summer, winter slips through
|
the cracks
|
You’re feeling the chill but there
|
isn’t a door to get back
|
City of Angels
|
Angels here in LAX
|
There’s a shooting star
|
There’s a satellite
|
Orion and Pleiades
|
I’m down here on my knees
|
Look for the message carved
|
into the light
|
There’s the mission bell
|
There’s the telephone
|
Handclaps and marching bands
|
Drums from the Holy Land
|
Someone to tell us we’re not
|
alone
|
Here in LAX
|
There’s my baby boy
|
There’s my daughter’s eyes
|
My mother, my brother, my son
|
and my lover
|
And everyone’s searching for
|
you in the sky
|
There’s the God I love
|
There’s the God I fear
|
Destined or random
|
Loved or abandoned
|
Sometimes I swear I can feel
|
you right here
|
Are you ready?
|
Nobody’s ready
|
Ready or not, baby
|
Ready or not
|
Here in LAX |