P.J. Proby

Hot California Nights All alone in L.A.
The streets are streams of worn out dreams and hopes of yesterday
Where are you Hollywood Queen Vanished from the Silver Screen
Faded Goddess can't leave your Eden
Your lips are shakin' Your memory aching
For all the men that you once were making
On Hot California Nights

Hot California Girls Beautiful People land
Fantasy is reality and no one understands
Where has Mama gone Is the trail beyond our skies
Surfer girls become foxy ladies
Their minds are blowing The flowers calling
Eight miles high and now they're falling
Hot California Girls

The Prophet said the Giant Whale will rise
And open up its Jaws to Paradise¿¿to Paradise
I saw the notice on the billboard stand
It said Final Week of the Promised Land
You're in the Cast you just can't get away
And the Poet will lead the Last Crusade
The Actor star in the Cavalcade
But the Prophet said The Singer has to stay

Hot California Sun Burning up my days
The hot rod town is all shut down Custom built decay
Where have the Beach Boys gone Wiped out by tidal waves
No more surfing on oil kissed beaches
The earth is changing and rearranging
No one left there meditating
In the Hot California Sun

Sha la la la la Sha la la la la Hot California Nights

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