Words and Music by Mike Clifford, Copyright 2004



With my guitar case in one hand

And my suitcase in the other

I hopped aboard a Texas Greyhound

Bound for Californ'

And though I'm just a good old boy

The kind you'd take to mother

When that bus hit Hollywood

I thought my star was born


I was singin' in a sushi bar just north of El Segundo

And every song went over like a cold December day

On my last note the owner walked right up

To me and shouted

In Japanese, but I believe I thought I heard him say


Get the "L" Outta L.A.

Send your lizard boots a-walkin'

Right back home to Texas, boy

Just pack your bags, go on

Get the "L" Outta L.A.,

Cause that "A" don't stand for Austin

And "L" don't stand for Lubbock, son

L.A. ain't your home


I went searchin' for a waiter job

To help me pay the rent

I waltzed into that restaurant, lord feelin' confident

Thought I'd be a shoo-in but

They shoed me out instead

The Maitre-de took a look at me

And this here’s what he said




I've been roamin' round this tinsel town

Forever and a day

I've had enough and then some

Of the games these people play

And though these California girls

Will turn your head around

The next time that you see me

I'll be Austin, Texas bound, singing