Lyrics:

Pack up all your dishes
Make note of all good wishes
And say goodbye to the landlord for me
That son-of-a-bitch has always bored me
Throw out all them L.A. papers
And that moldy box of vanilla wafers
Adios to all this concrete
Gonna get me some dirt road back street

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

Here's to you, old Skinny Dennis
The only one I think I will miss
I can hear that old bass singing
Sweet and low like a gift you're 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, 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're leaving?

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 of 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
And say goodbye to the landlord for me
That son-of-a-bitch has always bored me