Lyrics:

YeahWell, I was tripping down the street early this morningAnd the psychic lady pointed at meShe said, ''Come on in,'' and I gave her my moneySaid, ''Tell me, tell me what you see''And she said she saw the angels dancing with meDancing to the beat of my feet down the streetShe said she saw the angels dancing with meTo keep on, keep on, keep on, now(Still in Hollywood)Oh wowThought I''d be out of here by now(Still in Hollywood)My, myI''m running on a wheel and I don''t know whyI don''t know whyAnd I ran into Tony Pony, what a goddamned phonyHad a new fish on the lineWell, the last one left with the last bad checkThe only good one that he ever had diedI got to live and let live, I got to learn to forgiveYou know that everybody''s got a rightBut there''s evil all around me in this broken-down cityThat''s a twenty-four hour fight(Still in Hollywood)Oh wowI thought I''d be out of here by now(Still in Hollywood)My, myI''m running on a wheel and I don''t know why(Still in Hollywood)Oh wowI thought I''d be out of here by now(Still in Hollywood)My, my, my, myI''m running on a wheel and I don''t knowDon''t knowDon''t know whySo let''s me and you go get a new tattooWe can hop on the Harley and cruiseWe can start at the pier and share a beerHead out to the desert, I can feel it from hereRide all the way to where the lizards playRiding on and on and onThere''s a million stars, it will blow you awayIt''s all so Concrete Blonde, now(Still in Hollywood)HeyThat''s rightYou know we can ride it out all night(Still in Hollywood)Hey, hey, heyI got to got awayGot to get away, yeah(Still in Hollywood)My, my, myYes, I''m glad to be alive(Still in Hollywood)Oh, mama gonna be somebodySomeday, sometime(Still in Hollywood)Oh yeahOh yeah(Still in Hollywood)Yeah, and I want to get out aliveDon''t you know I''m(Still in Hollywood)Oh, doing fineOh, listen baby(Still in Hollywood)Oh, want to be out of here by now(What''s-a-matter with you, young manGoing to Hollywood, gonna be a big shotThat town''s gonna suck you up and spit you outYou ain''t gonna have a pot to piss inDon''t come back to me for a jobYou made your bed, now sleep in itGo back to these Copelands, what elseWho are they anywaysThe Stewie, Miles CopelandsYou ain''t gonna have a dimeBig shot).