The Blythe Song

L.A.'s having a bad air day.
Traffic's jammed up every which way.
That won't bother me 'cause I'm headed home.
The smog's so bad at San Bernardino,
You can't hardly find the way to Indio,
But that's all right with me 'cause I'm headed home.

Back to Blythe, where the air is sweet and clean.
Back to Blythe, distant mountains are serene.
Back to Blythe, the alfalfa's gold and green.
Back to Blythe, people never treat you mean.

Two hours from Phoenix and four from L.A.,
Four more to Vegas if you want to play.
Here's where I'm happy, and here's where I'll stay,
Here I can belong.

Here in Blythe, where the air is sweet and clean.
Here in Blythe, distant mountains are serene.
Here in Blythe, the alfalfa's gold and green.
Here in Blythe, people never treat you mean.

It gets hot in summer, but what can I say?
No place is perfect, and oh, by the way,
If you like it, too, then you're welcome to stay.
Here you can belong.

Come to Blythe, where the air is sweet and clean.
Come to Blythe, distant mountains are serene.
Come to Blythe, the alfalfa's gold and green.
Come to Blythe, people never treat you mean.

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