Lonesome L.A. Cowboy

Lyrics: Peter Rowan
Music: Peter Rowan

chorus
I'm just lonesome L.A. cowboy
Hanging out, and hanging on
To your window ledge, callin' your name
From midnight until dawn
I been smoking dope, snorting coke
Trying to write a song
Forgettin' everything I know
Till the next line comes along
Forgetting everything I know
Till the next line comes along

So many pretty people in this city, and I swear
Some of them are girls
I meet 'em down at Barney's Beanery
In their platform shoes and spit curls
I buy 'em drinks, we stoke our hopes
And try to make it one more night
When I'm left alone at last
I feel like I'll die from crying

[chorus]

I know Kris and Rita and Marty Mull (note 1)
Are meeting at the Troubadour
We'll get it on with the "Joy Of Cooking"
While the crowd calls out for more
Around six o'clock this morning
I'll be gettin' kind of slow
When all the shows are over, honey, tell me
Where do you think I go?

[chorus]

Till the next line comes along

I know all the stars in Hollywood
Are meeting at the Troubador
We'll get it on with the band that's playing there
While the crowd calls out for more