Dead Hotel

Is this fiction? It's hard to tell
If it's me who's checking into this dead hotel
I'm trying to move across these Great Plains
It's true I've got a little bit of weird in my veins

There's barely a soul out on these roads
Skeleton truckers and empty loads
Somewhere out there I hear a voice
It's the end of the world it's the DJ's choice

I'm making a run in my car
Guess I'm never gonna be a star
Play me a song that'll take me home
So I can lay with you before it all falls through

Jesus saves but now he mainly spends
Most of his time wondering
What the hell went wrong down below
Better call Buddha he might know

Highway billboards they're all the same
He's selling you a steak for some bloody fame
The pendulum moves look how it swings
We've got to get rid of this unfit king

I'm making a run in my car
Guess I'm never gonna be a star
Play me a song that'll take me home
So I can lay with you before it all falls through

Now I'm rolling over these mountains tall
Driving past burned out strip malls
Nations come and nations go
But nothing can kill the radio
You know you can't kill the radio

I'm making a run in my car
Guess I'm never gonna be a star
Play me a song that'll take me home
So I can lay with you before it all falls through



Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Christenson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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