Lyrics
Concrete oven, 105 degrees
Palm trees choking on the smog and the breeze
Blue rags, red rags, colors of the war
Knocking on the sky, kicking down the door
From the harbor to the valley, it's a gridlock fight
Searching for a shadow in the Hollywood light
L.A. is burning, but not from the sun
Underneath the freeway, looking down a gun
Turf on the asphalt, blood in the drain
The city of angels is screaming in pain
Go!
Graffiti on the overpass, names in the spray
Marking out the graveyard where the young kids stay
No jobs in the basin, no hope in the flats
Caught between the sirens and the alley cats
Sirens in the distance, a helicopter hum
Waiting for the beat of the war zone drum
L.A. is burning, but not from the sun
Underneath the freeway, looking down a gun
Turf on the asphalt, blood in the drain
The city of angels is screaming in pain
Set the line
Cross the street
Feel the heat
Feel the heat
Whole streets
Our streets
Echo Park to Watts, it's a territorial maze
Walking through the smoke of a thirty-year haze
Politicians talk while the zip ties click
The cycle is a fever and the city is sick
The city is sick
The city is sick
L.A.!
L.A.!