A Hotel Room In Hell

Did I live all my life just to die in this fucking hotel?

I’ve ended up in a few hotel rooms and learned there’s a vast difference between staying at a hotel and ending up at a hotel.

Staying at a hotel is what you do when you go on vacation, take a trip, or enjoy a weekend getaway. If you’re with your babe, the change of scenery — and disregard for housekeeping — can lead to a night of romance that’s hard to top at home.

That’s when a hotel room is a magical oasis. It’s like your own little Shangri La — complete with fluffy towels, tiny soaps, and miniature shampoo.

On the other hand, if you’re on a four-day bender, you’ve exhausted all your other options, and the only date you have is with a fifth of Smirnoff — it’s a very different experience.

I wrote this song about that experience. Not one experience, unfortunately, but a culmination of those experiences — a menagerie of dark recollections.

A Hotel Room In Hell

The needle was almost on E as I pulled into eternity
I scooped up my junk from out of my trunk
and dropped a half pint on the street

And Satan, he may have said, “Please”
But John Barleycorn gave me the keys
to this…