Standard (EADGBE)
Hotel hobbies padding dawns hollow corridors
Bell boys checking out the hookers in the bar
The tell tale sign of the last cigarette marking time in the pockets as the
whisky sweat lies like discarded armour on an unmade bed
And a familiar craving is crawling through his head
And the only sign of life is the ticking of the pen
Introducing characters to memories like old friends
Frantic as a cardiograph scratching out the lines
New shadows tugging at the corner of his eye
Jostling for attention as the sunlight flares
Through a curtains tear, shuffling its beams
As if in nervous anticipation of another day