Don't you know I need a place to stay
|
Only fifteen bucks a day
|
I didn't want to end up here
|
But now I guess I need to stay
|
|
River red, runs like lead
|
And the smell of kerosene in my head
|
Stuck in here in this shithole
|
Reading foreign magazines instead
|
|
"But senor, I only have ten dollars,
|
Can't you give me a room for the night?"
|
We argue about currency and then
|
He says I can stay for the night
|
|
In this Panama City motel
|
I am out on the freeway again
|
|
A woman approaches in Barcelona
|
Walking down the Diagonalia
|
Spaghetti concrete overpasses
|
I keep grasping for something familiar
|
|
-----------------
|
Panama City Motel
|
| Sugar |
