Lyrics:

Somewhere high in the desert near a curtain of a blue

St. Anne's skirts are billowing

But down here in the city of the lime lights

The fans of santa ana are withering

And you can't deny that living is easy

If you never look behind the scenery

It's showtime for dry climes

And bedlam is dreaming of rain



When the hills of los angeles are burning

Palm trees are candles in the murder wind

So many lives are on the breeze

Even the stars are ill at ease

And los angeles is burning



This is not a test

Of the emergency broadcast system

Where malibu fires and radio towers

Conspire to dance again

And I cannot believe the media Mecca

They're only trying to peddle reality,

Catch it on prime time, story at nine

The whole world is going insane



When the hills of los angeles are burning

Palm trees are candles in the murder wind

So many lives are on the breeze

Even the stars are ill at ease

And los angeles is burning



A placard reads

'the end of days'

Jacaranda boughs are bending in the haze



More a question than a curse

How could hell be any worse?



The flames are stunning

The cameras running

So take warning



When the hills of los angeles are burnin

Palm trees are candles in the murder wind

So many lives are on the breeze

Even the stars are ill at ease

And los angeles is burning