Hotel Hobbies Lyrics - Marillion

Hotel hobbies padding dawns hollow corridors 

Bell boys checking out the hookers in the bar 

Slug-like fingers trace the star-spangled clouds of cocaine on the mirror 

The short straw took its bow 

The tell tale tocking of the last cigarette 

Marking time in the packet as the whisky sweat 

Lies like discarded armour on an unmade bed 

And a familiar craving is crawling in 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 

A fever of confession a catalogue of crime in happy hour 

Do you cry in happy hour, do you hide in happy hour 

The pilgrimage to happy hour