My body is a map of L. A I stand straight like an angel, with a halo Hangin' out the Hilton Hotel windows Screamin', "Heyo, baby, let's go" My chest, the Sierra Madre My hips, every high and byway 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 integral to me as arteries That pump the blood that flows straight to the heart of me America, America I can't sleep at home, tonight sent me at Hilton Hotel I cross on the hill, I'm a lost little girl Findin' my way to you Arcadia
My body is a map of L. A My heart is like paper, I hate ya I'm not from the land of the palms, so I know I can't stay here I'm not native My curves, San Gabriel all day 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 integral 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 sent me at Hilton Hotel I cross on the hill, 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 discount I came here Findin' my way to you I'm leavin' them as I was, five foot eight Western bound, plus the hate that they gave By the way, thanks for that, on the way, I'll pray for ya 'Cause you need a miracle America
Compositores: Andrew Alexander Erickson (Drew Erickson) (BMI), Elizabeth Woolridge Grant (Lana Del Rey) (ASCAP)Editores: Mod Junkie (BMI), Dr Zeuss Music (ASCAP), Music Companion (BMI)Administração: Music Companion (BMI)Publicado em 2021ECAD verificado obra #37417574 e fonograma #29795855 em 21/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM