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Текст песни Marillion - Hotel Hobbies

Marillion - Hotel Hobbies слова песни




(derek dick, steve rothery, mark kelly, pete trewavas, ian mosley)Hotel hobbies padding dawns hollow corridorsBell boys checking out the hookers in the barSlug-like fingers trace the star-spangled clouds of cocaine on the mirrorThe short straw took its bowThe tell tale tocking of the last cigaretteMarking time in the packet as the whisky sweatLies like discarded armour on an unmade bedAnd a familiar craving is crawling in his headAnd the only sign of life is the ticking of the penIntroducing characters to memories like old friendsFrantic as a cardiograph scratching out the linesA fever of confession a catalogue of crime in happy hourDo you cry in happy hourDo you hide in happy hourThe pilgrimage to happy hourNew shadows tugging at the corner of his eyeJostling for attentionAs the sunlight flaresThrough a curtains tearShuffling its beams as if in nervous anticipation of another day

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