Can’t get the Bad Religion song out of my head.
Somewhere high in the desert, near a curtain of a blue
Saint Ann's skirts are billowing
But down here in the city of limelights
The fans of Santa Ana are withering
Somewhere high in the desert, near a curtain of a blue
Saint Ann's skirts are billowing
But down here in the city of limelights
The fans of Santa Ana are withering
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If you never look behind the scenery
It's showtime for dry climes
And bedlam is dreaming of rain
When the hills of Los Angeles are burning
Palm trees are candles in the murder wind
So many lives are on the breeze
Even the stars are ill at ease
It’s so painful to watch. I don’t know where this ends, or if we will ever do anything to protect our future.