Hotel Hobbies - Marillion
Hotel hobbies padding
Dawns hollow corridors
Bell boys checking out
The hookers in the bar
Slug-like fingers trace the star-spangled
Clouds of cocaine on the mirror
The short straw took it's bow
The tell tale tocking of the last cigarette
Marking time in the packet
As the whisky sweat
Lies like discarded armour
On an unmade bed
And a familiar craving is
Crawling in his head
And the only sign of life is
The ticking of the pen
Introducing characters to
Memories like old friends
Frantic as a cardiograph
Scratching out the lines
A fever of confession a catalogue
Of crime in happy hour
Do you cry in happy hour
Do you hide in happy hour
The pilgrimage to happy hour
New shadows tugging
At the corner of his eye
Jostling for attention
As the sunlight flares
Through a curtains tear
Shuffling it's beams as if in nervous
Anticipation of another day