Take exit thirty six for the Last Resort Motel
Where the vacancy sign flickers like a beacon
To the wounded and the weary
The blue paint is ancient and peeling
Revealing all the colors that it used to be
Like the building itself
Is trying to turn back time
Its not a Red Roof or a Motel Six
Its the sole survivor of its species
And it clings bitterly to life
Its a place in between places
On the outskirts of a small town
Who draws their lifeblood from the highway
But the blood is starting to thin
The wounds are taking longer to heal
And the bleeding won't stop
It may be your last chance
To stay at the Last Resort Motel