From the Alta Loma Hotel Songtext
von Ron Hawkins

Your boots fall from the bed to the floor
You slowly turn the lock on the door
You never know what you′re in store for
But it's just another season in hell
Living in a two star hotel
Your soul′s the only thing that you haven't been able to sell

It's a long hot summer of sweet descent
It′s a long cold winter of discontent


You tap the keys with an absent mind
Your pockets full of spare time
But you can′t find the words, much less the lines
Now you're just another drowning man
Holding back the sea with your hands
All those loud love letters and pretty proud plans

It′s a long hot summer of sweet dissent
It's a long cold winter of discontent
It′s a long lean season of unpaid rent
It's a deadline

And now you′re living like a man with his hair on fire
Pawning every promise to a pledge of desire
We speak the same language, Arturo and me
How you gonna sleep when the truth won't set you free?

There's a breeze in from the sea
To wash away the dust of your transgression
The sea gulls wheeling overhead in black and white
Seem eerily like priests attending to your mad confession
Hooray!