The Great Airplane Strike

I was down in L.A. town, when our manager said Jump
I through my close and my saxophone in a two by four bit trunk
I pushed it to the airport and run to the ticket line
Man said Son, you could have saves the run, those airplanes just quit flyin’

If I can’t leave here, I just might stay
And that L.A. flyway is goin’ to be my home, umm, huum

I ran to the terminal building, to fly by my airline
The man said I could ride the wing and I said that was fine
He said I’ll confirm your reservation, and put the plane on hold
He came back and said Sorry but that wing space just been sold

If I can’t leave here, I just might stay
And that L.A. flyway is goin’ to be my home, umm, huum, baby

I walked into the washroom and I built myself a fire
Throw on lots of paper and the flames kept gettin’ higher
The janitor come runnin’ in, so scare his face was white
So, I explained my situation, he said That’s all right

If I can’t leave here, I just might stay
And that L.A. flyway is goin’ to be my home

Next day I thought that I would leave, so I packed my thing again
Waited 14 hours for a taxi to come in
Spotted one that wasn’t full and I threw myself in fast
The driver said I’m sorry but this taxi’s out of gas

If I can’t leave here, I just might stay
And that L.A. flyway is goin’ to be my home