I can see my old hotel down amongst the smells. I'm up above that ancient city river
It's filtered by my lousy liver. It's filtered by my wilted lily liver
And I can see my old hotel. It ain't even a hotel. 5am there came some sleet or hail
It was signal taps on the great window, solemn taps on the wavy window
Well I can see my old hotel, hear those old touristy bells
Soon i'll be down the hill a shopping. Giddy like a tipsy Mary Poppins
And i can see my old hotel. It ain't even a hotel I'm scheduled to ride the rails
and if i wish i'd stay on in this tower, things would deranged given just another hour