There better be an ashtray at the end of this rainbow
The record is spinning static
       Room key has your name left with it
The bayou chattering like the immigrants tray full of ***** wine glasses

Nobody is coming for you
Turn out the lights

I warned you
Even crying babies have to say goodnight


The hallway lights start to flicker
My feet no longer touch the ground
I wander out into the empty twilight cooridors where lowly Cajun girls were found

Nobody is coming for you
The water  splashes room numbers throughout the hallway
I can't remember which floor I'll find you
My number is up anyway