Burbank, California

All the great cities have songs written about them -- "Sweet Home Chicago," "New York, New York" and "I Left My Heart in San Francisco." And now, I offer my ode to the middle child of the San Fernando Valley...Burbank.

Hit the play button above and sing along...

On a jammed Valley freeway,
Brown smog in the air.
A faint smell of burnt toner,
Maybe I should be scared.

Up ahead in the distance,
I saw the rainbow Peacock.
Headache started, I was late for work.
It's 10 past 9 o'clock.

HR stood at the reception;
That pissed off Southern Belle
And when I finally made it there,
She said, "It's your private version of Hell."

Then she game me my time card
and she showed me the way
Down the hallway to the copy room,
And then I heard her say...

Welcome to Burbank, California
Now you know your place.
Don't let me see your face.

If you want real work in Burbank, California,
I don't wanna hear.
Now get outta here.

Her mind is certainly twisted,
She leased a Mercedes-Benz
Asked if she can afford her car,
She'll say, "It all depends."

Now the copier gets jammed,
And I'm starting to sweat.
Did I break it on purpose?
Somehow I forget.

So I called up my temp pimp,
"I'm miserable here."
He said, "When you get home from work today,
please go have a beer."

And still those voices are ringing inside my head,
If I had to hear them all over again, I think I'd rather be dead...

Looking for work in Burbank, California.
None at ABC.
None at WB.

Temping for scraps in Burbank, California.
What a nice surprise.
Left over chili fries!

Mirrors on the ceiling,
Pints of Courvoisier
The guard said, "Who let your Temp ass in here?
This is for Michael Bay."

And in my boss's office,
They're all flipped out on coke.
Won't learn this at NYU.
Is this just a sick joke?

Last thing I remember,
I was driving toward the 5
I had to find the passage back
To the place I felt alive.
"Turn 'round," said my Garmin,
It is programmed to deceive.
"You can flee Burbank any time you like,
But you can never leave!"