They told me it was the city of angels. But somehow everywhere I go, The devil is there. How can someone be so miserable, In a city bleached white by the sun? A place where the blinding smile of one's teeth, Is routine? But it’s under the thick roots of the palm trees, That the despair lies, In each grain of sand, It explodes on the shore in a chaotic dance. It seeps into your walls, And through the gritted teeth of their fake laughter, But they don’t notice. They have all been blinded, Their eyes strained by the luminosity that embeds their angel town, How can they tell? Between the lies and the despair? When the devil takes the city, Who will see the white, Turn to red?