Lyrics:

Somewhere high in the desert near a curtain of a blue The sane man skirts under the wind But down here in the city of the lime lights The fans of santa ana are witherin' And you can't deny that living is easy If you never look behind the scenery It's showtime for drag lines And bedlam is dreamin' of rain When the hills of Los Angeles are burnin' Palm trees are candles in the murder wind So many lives on the breeze Even the stars are ill at ease And Los Angeles is burnin' This is not a test Of the emergency broadcast system When malibu fires and radio towers Conspire to dance again And I cannot believe the media Mecca They're only trying to battle reality, catch it on prime time, story at nine The whole world is goin' insane 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 burnin' A clock that reads The end of days Shotgun roundabouts are bending in the haze More a question than a curse How could hell be any worse? The flames are startin' The cameras runnin' So take warnin' 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 burnin'