I was down in Illytown when our manager said jumpI threw my clothes and my saxophone in a two-by-four-bed drumI pushed it to the airport and I ran to the ticket lineThe man said, son, you could have saved the runThose airplanes just quit flyingIf I can't leave here, I just might stayAnd this L.A. flyway's going to be my homeI ran to the terminal building down to Fly-By-Night AirlinesThe man said I could ride the wing and I said that was fineHe said, I'll confirm your reservation and put the plane on holdHe come back, he said, sorry, but that wing space just been soldIf I can't leave here, I just might stayAnd this L.A. flyway's going to be my homeOh, babyI walked into the washroom and I built myself a fireI threw on lots of paper and the flames kept getting higherThe janitor come running in so scared her face was whiteI explained my situation, he said that's all rightIf I can't leave here, I just might stayAnd this L.A. flyway's going to be my homeNext day I thought that I would leave, so I packed my things againI waited fourteen hours for a taxi to come inI spotted one that wasn't full and I threw myself in fastThe driver said, I'm sorry, but this taxi's goneIf I can't leave here, I just might stayAnd this L.A. flyway's going to be my homeAnd this L.A. flyway's going to be my homeAnd this L.A. flyway's going to be my home