I was sitting in the Hollywood Hawaiian Hotel

I was staring in my empty coffee cup

I was thinkin' that the gypsy wasn't lyin'

All the salty margaritas in Los Angeles

I'm gonna drink 'em up

And if California slides into the ocean

Like the mystics and statistics say it will

I predict this motel will be standing

Until I pay my bill

Don't the sun look angry through the trees?

Don't the trees look like crucified thieves?

Don't you feel like desperados under the eaves?

Heaven help the one who leaves

Still wakin' up in the mornings with shakin' hands

And I'm trying to find a girl who understands me

But except in dreams you're never really free

Don't the sun look angry at me?

I was sitting in the Hollywood Hawaiian Hotel

I was listening to the air conditioner hum

It went...

Look away (look away) down Gower Avenue, look away

Desperados Under The Eaves