Mojo Risin

Just a quick riff of Morrison's LA Woman. Since I am hanging out in the City of Angels I thought it would be apropo

Well, I just got into town about an hour ago
Took a look around, see which way the wind blow
Where the little girls in their Hollywood bungalows
Are you a lucky little lady in the city of light
Or just another lost angel...city of night
City of night, city of night, city of night, woo, cmon
L.A. woman, L.A. woman
L.A. woman Sunday afternoon
Drive through your suburbs
Into your blues, into your blues, yeah
Into your blue-blue blues
Into your blues, ohh, yeah
I see your hair is burnin
Hills are filled with fire
If they say I never loved you
You know they are a liar
Drivin down your freeways
Midnight alleys roam
Cops in cars, the topless bars
Never saw a woman...So alone, so alone
Motel money murder madness
Lets change the mood from glad to sadness
Mr. mojo risin, mr. mojo risin

Crazy city. Just so different for a large city. East Coast cities just seem to be stacked up while LA just seems to sprawl over the coast. Hills seem to be swallowed up, houses placed anywhere, highways as arteries giving the life blood to the city. Highways are highways but LA highways are in a class by themselves. Huge mammoth concrete structures, always busy. Swooping into the Wilshire, Sunset, Hollywood, and Westwood area is just a mass of what the entertainment capital is all about. Cars everywhere, tourist gawking at it all, locals trying to be hip (are there any real locals? Aren't they all looking to be that star?), and overlooking it all is the famous sign signifying you've made it, or there's hope, or magic in that hill. The myth, the underlying energy, the glam and glitter is what one would expect from Southern California.