Ooh, ooh
Ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh
Will there be stars on the streets like I've seen in the movies?
Fancy cars everywhere, broken dreams but they wear it like Jolie
And they don't take the Tube 'cause that's not what they do
They're in a soft top, swimming
Drive to the valleys to look at the view
When I get to LA (LA)
The sun on the sidewalk (hoo-hoo)
And they'll love my accent (they'll love, they'll love, they'll love)
Nothing like back home
But it's all looking hopeless when it's four in the morning
And no words are coming
But one day, you'll be talking 'bout me on the telly
When I get to LA
When I get to LA (ah-ooh)
Ooh, ooh
Ooh
Ooh, ooh
I wonder would Hollywood swallow me up? Will it hurt me?
'Cause looking at Chalamet, it's hard to that it's so bleak
Fake friends, new house, big dreams
I know they're waiting for me
In a couple of songs, I'll be there on a plane
When I get to LA
The smoke on the city
And they'll ask me where I came from (came from, came from, came from)
And I'll tell them about my home (ooh, ooh-ooh)
But it's all looking hopeless when it's four in the morning
And no words are coming
But one day, you'll be talking 'bout me on the tele
When I get to LA
And it won't be so hopeless when it's four in the morning
And all my friends are calling, yeah
'Cause they've see me on the TV, and they'll be telling me about my fame
I'm smiling on the front page
When I get to LA