|
On a dark desert highway
|
Cool wind in my hair
|
The wrm smell of colitas
|
Rising up through the air
|
Up ahaed in a distance
|
I saw ashimmering light
|
My head grew heavy and my side grew dim
|
I had to stop for the night
|
|
There she stood in the doorway
|
I heard the mission bell
|
And I was thinking to myself
|
This could be heaven or this could be hell
|
Then she lit up a candle
|
And she showed me the way
|
There were voices down the corridore
|
I thought I heard them say
|
|
Welcome to the Hotel California
|
Such a lovely place, such a lovely face
|
There's plenty of room in the Hotel California
|
Any time of year, you can find it here
|
|
Her mind is tiffany twisted
|
She's got a Mercedes Benz
|
She's got a lotta pretty, pretty boys
|
She calls friends
|
How they dance in the courtyard
|
Sweet summer sweat
|
Some dance to remember
|
Some dance to forget
|
|
So I called up the captain
|
Please bring me my vine
|
He said "We haven't had that spirit here since 1969"
|
And still those voices they're calling from far away
|
Wake you up in the middle of the night
|
Just to hear them say
|
|
Welcome to the Hotel California
|
Such a lovely place, such a lovely face
|
They're livin' it up at the Hotel California
|
What a nice surprise, bring your alibis
|
|
Mirrors on the ceilling, the pink champaign on ice
|
And she said "We are all just prisoners here of our own
|
device"
|
In the masters chambers they're gahthered for the feast
|
They stab it with their steely knifes but they just can't kill
|
the beast
|
|
Last thing I remember, I was runnin' for the door
|
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
|
"Relax" said the night man "We're all programmed to recieve
|
You can check out everytime you like, but you can never
|
leave"
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Hotel California
|
| Wilson Phillips |
