Letra de Hotel Hobbies (Live At Wembley Arena 5/11/87)
Feel so Is of a cutting of Straws album And it's entitled, "Hotel Hobbies"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 its bowThe tell-tale toking of the last cigarette Marking time in the packet as the whiskey sweat Lies like discarded armor on an unmade bed And a familiar craving is a-crawling in his headAnd the only sign of life is the ticking of the pen Deducing characters to memories like old friends Frantic as a cardiograph, scratching out the lines A fever of confession, a catalogue of crime in happy hourEnjoy the happy hour Do you cry in happy hour? This pilgrimage to happy hourNew shadows tugging at the corner of his eye Jostling for attention With the sunlight flares through a curtain's tear Shuffling its beams as if in nervous anticipation Of another day