After Los Angeles lyrics

I got a hair cut A dress shirt A St. Paulie's girl But I don't need any of that I got a number on a napkin A soup can to sing through A tune in its worst mood I got a temper like a fistfight And a tab after midnight And a right fast woman And there'll be hell to pay After Los Angeles And you won't believe What I've seen This town is a workshop for wordsmiths And grifters and misters and misses And cheeks full of kisses And all of you bidders Can't wait till I'm bitter I've got a fever like the boulevard summer And a right fast woman Bury me beside you when I die When I'm dead and gone. Mama sing me to sleep While you weep But don't weep at all You can find me in the back And if you don't care Then why did you ask?