Pack up all the dishes
Make note of all good wishes
Say goodbye to the landlord for me
Sons-a-bitches always bore me
And throw out all those L.A. papers
And the moldy box of Vanilla Wafers
Adios to all this concrete
Gonna get me some dirt road back streets
If I can just get off of this L.A. freeway
Without getting killed or caught
I'll be down the road in a cloud of smoke
To some land I ain't bought bought bought
And it's scales to you old Skinny Dennis
Only one I think I will miss
I can hear that old bass singing
Sweet and low like a gift your bringing
Play it for me one more time now
Got to give it all we can now
I believe every thing you're saying
Just to keep on keeping on, keep on playing
If I can just get off of this L.A. freeway
Without getting killed or caught
I'll be down the road in a cloud of smoke
To some land I ain't bought bought bought
And you put the pink card in the mailbox
Leave the key in the front door lock
They'll find it likely as not
I'm sure there's something we have forgot
Oh Susanna, don't you cry babe
Love's a gift that's surely handmade
We got something to believe in
Don't you think it's time we were leavin?
If I can just get off of this L.A. freeway
Without getting killed or caught
I'll be down the road in a cloud of smoke
To some land I ain't bought bought bought
If I can just get off this L.A. freeway
Without getting killed or caught
Down the road in a cloud of smoke
To some land I ain't bought
So pack up all your dishes
Make note of all good wishes
Say goodbye to the landlord for me
Sons-a-bitches always bore
