The ghosts of innocence stalk the hallways singing with tambourines -
There's a pretty senorita trying to scrub the bathtub clean -
There's a child with no birthday, there's a wedding with no vow -
There's a room for every stranger who's as strange as I am now
*My mind is like a maid - always cleaning up after filthy guests
My heart's a hotel where these weary, worried, wandering thoughts can rest
and I'm the innkeeper, trying to pass the white glove test - I'm the Innkeeper*
Take a seat inside my kitchen where I feed my hungry dreams -
Every aching stone is covered with the moss of memory -
I keep washing the same window but I cannot change the scene
Someone's knocking - someone's always knocking! - Please let me be!
You can blame the leaky ceiling - You can blame the economy - But in the business of lately
I've had lots of vacancy.