Don’t Hide Me Away (in L.A.)

Written by Nicolette Good. Copyright 2013.

Don’t hide me away in the city of L.A.
I smell that cruel medicine on the breeze
I’ll go hungry on a feast of lights
It won’t kill me, but the bill might
Don’t hide me away, I’m begging please

Some people call it Heaven on earth, that’s really something
Is Heaven a place they give you something for nothing?
If St. Peter wants to play ball, tell him he can give me a call
But don’t me away in Los Angeles

You can find me at your old address
On the corner of the penniless
Where all my heroes are lining up to dress in drag
I ran into one, she gave me a beer
She whispered into my ear
We shared a laugh, and now I’m in on the gag

They call it the city of angels, where do they get this stuff?
You’d think that hell on earth would be enough
If St. Peter wants to call my name, tell him two can play that game
And don’t hide me away in Los Angeles

It’s not the hiding myself away
It’s not the waiting in the streets of gray
I shouldn’t even bother to explain
It’s not the lawyers or the gutter punks
It’s not the movie stars or the drunks
It’s just been so long since I’ve heard your name

And if St. Peter wants to play rough, tell him I’m calling his bluff
And don’t hide me away in L.A.