Blue Hotel from Scars by Den Hanrahan

What if there was nothing left of us nothing to discuss yeah nothing?
What if everything was thrown away no yesterdays all gone?
With all the writing on the wall, washed away with the tide,
and nothing for a mind so low,

And I was living in the Blue Hotel, where every night you can go to hell
with every wordhanging on a wire, voices coming from inside
and every night with some contraband. If the shy should fall then understand that I'm Staring through the window at the neon lights
from the Blue Hotel.

Should the world turn colder everyday, falls of snow block the highway.
Can't build the future for the past, nothings going to last, yeah nothing.
With all the writing on the wall, washed away with the tide,
and nothing for a mind so low,

And I was living in the Blue Hotel, where every night you can go to hell
with every wordhanging on a wire, voices coming from inside
and every night with some contraband. If the shy should fall then understand that I'm Staring through the window at the neon lights
from the Blue Hotel.

But we're standing underneath a street lamp soaked to the bone,
with a six pack of Coopers, listening to the Rolling Stones.

And I was living in the Blue Hotel, where every night you can go to hell
with every wordhanging on a wire, voices coming from inside
and every night with some contraband. If the shy should fall then understand that I'm Staring through the window at the neon lights
from the Blue Hotel. x2

• Country
• bluegrass
• country folk
• old timey
• rolling stones
• Wanniassa