The angels are lost in the city of stars The wise men are down on their knees And the fruit man of freeway will sell you his cars When he's sure that
All my life I've been waiting for the day Looking for angels in a cheap motel Losers and winners, there's the saints and the sinners And Jesus' working
which way the wind blow Where the little girls in their Hollywood bungalows? Are you a lucky little lady in the city of light? Or just another lost angel
When you're nothing to no one And you're less than you can And you're looking for someone Who won't cling to anything So you're stuck in some motel With
to get out of town. She likes to get out of town. Yeah, yeah, she likes to get out of town. (Ooh yeah.) They got a motel room with a single bed... Just
It's the Forty-Third Annual Convention Of the Grand Mystic Royal Order Of the Nobles of the Ali Baba Temple of the Shrine Meanwhile, back at the motel
Angels working overtime It took a couple hundred miles 'til they fell in love They knew forever was the only thing good enough And in a moment of passion in a motel
it out across the stage Scream and shout it, all the rage Amsterdam to San Fran No one plays it like you can All alone, motel room Angels sing, angels
El destino de abril En tus horas de sueno Cuando el mundo esta quieto Yo guardo tu honor Y tu vida al igual Y si algun dia te encuentro En la eternidad Los angeles
Fatima In the wall of the motel room And cowboys on acid Are like Egyptian cartoons No one ever conquered Wyoming From the left or from the right Just to stay in motel
And there's my homeroom angel on the pages in-between My blood runs cold My memory has just been sold My angel is the centerfold Angel is the centerfold
s spell And Hillbilly Heaven Went to Honky Tonk Hell From Hillbilly Heaven To Honky Tonk Hell From a warm home fire burning To a cold, cheap motel And an angel
It's 2 am another motel room and the boys, They'll be sleeping soon. But I'm up and around and feeling blue With not much of anything to do. Maybe
homeroom angel on the pages in between My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold My angel is a centerfold Angel is a centerfold My angel is a
keep it unwound That girl likes to get outta town She likes to get outta town Yeah, she likes to get outta town They've got a motel room with a single
little angelyne As the sun goes down and the moonlight shines Back of a greyhound bus sit two lovers entwined Just big bill and little angelyne In a six dollar motel
the motel room. And cowboys on acid are like Egyptian cartoons. And no one ever conquered Wyoming from the left or from the right. But you can stay in motel
man Nigga, speak the real Speak the real Speak the real Speak the real Speak the real It's a quarter after nine on my AM, FM Radio Shack, digital motel