Hotel Song
Sunday night, its supper time, the hotel's full and all is fine.
You can see that No Vacancy sign from the window of room 39
Monday morning at half past eight, everybody's gone, they left no trace.
I sit alone as the day grows late, wait to see your friendly face
Why you chose my hotel I'm not real qualified to tell,
it's just your face I remember well,
when you asked if I had a room to sell
Maybe you liked just what you saw,
the cable TV and the indoor spa or maybe it was the low low price twenty-seven
bucks a night
Say the highway is for lovers, but he ain't no friend of mine
because every time I find my heart, I lose it to that long yellow line
You checked in, I checked you out, you smiled from the corners of your mouth
I turned on the no-vacancy sign as you checked in to room 39
I saw the light from your TV, you were watching channel 23
the night was long, the dark was deep, I kinda cried myself to sleep
Say the highway is for lovers, but he ain't no friend of mine
because every time I find my heart, I lose it to that long yellow line
Morning broke itself at last, you got your continental breakfast
dropped off the key and said goodbye, I think I thought I heard you sigh
I caught a glimpse of your licence plate, you were drifting down the innerstate
It said you were from Delaware, I said oh it must be gorgeous there
Похожие новости.
Ти З Іншої Планети
Ти маєш розум, ти маєш тіло І кожна-кожна з тобою б хотіла Чого не маєш, то серця напевно Невже ти не бачиш, я тут не даремно Приспів: А ти з іншої планети Мільйони кілометрів Розділяють нас Де ти?
Lorelei
When I think of Lorelei my head turns all around As gentle as a butterfly she moves without a sound I call her on the telephone, she says be there by eight Tonight's
We Have Heaven
Tell the Moon-dog, tell the March-hare Tell the
Все Решено
Эти роли не для нас, не играем мы сейчас Ядовитая, разбитая, убитая я Всё забыто, решено, слёзы высохли давно На пути к новому миру и счастью я. 1 куплет. Все чувства снегом замело, Боль впитала то
Шо За Фака?
Місто, місто, дивне місто, п’яне місто, Нема де впасти, скоріш можна десь сісти. Кожен FM крутить своє фуфло, І не дивуйся коли просто так отримєш в чоло. Тут нема виходу, кращих ідей. Тут усе завмирає
