From "The Darkest Part Of The Night" (1996)

From “The Darkest Part Of The Night” (1996)

by Bob Malone

This one’s called the Gold Rush Inn
It ain’t no different from the last ten fleabags
That I been in
Cigarette burns on the nightstand
Peeling wallpaper on a paper thin wall
The porcelain’s cracked and the heater don’t work at all
But I won’t care much what the place looks like
When I’m out of these sweaty stage clothes
‘Cause every room looks just the same when your eyes are closed
And where you lay your head don’t matter
When you’re out here on the road
‘Cause it’s just another room that’s not your own

Tonight it’s the Holiday Inn
I never thought I would
See the day when a place like this
Would start lookin’ so good
But the front desk clerk don’t like my looks or the company I keep
He thinks I’m gonna wreck the place
When I really just wanna get some sleep

And there ain’t no nightmare that can compare
To waking up not knowing where you are
And wondering how these places keep looking the same
After you’ve come so far
‘Cause where you lay your head don’t matter
When you’re out here on the road
‘Cause it’s just another room that’s not your own

BRIDGE
And I’ve slept in world class accommodations
And I’ve slept on a hard bench at the Greyhound station
And there ain’t no difference between the two that I can see
‘Cause there ain’t no place on the road that feels like home to me…

Now the road is a friend of mine
I don’t feel alive without the roadsigns
Or the broken white line
And there’s nothin’ better than singing for you
Singin’ for a living’s just about the best job
That a man can do

But when the crowd goes home and the band’s been paid
I can’t help feeling lonely and cold
These hotel walls protect my body
But they’re a danger to my soul
And where you lay your head don’t matter
When you’re out here on the road
‘Cause it’s just another room that’s not your own

This one’s called the Gold Rush Inn
It ain’t no different from the last ten fleabags
That I been in…

© 1995 Born Too Late Music (SESAC)