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Old 18-02-2015, 13:44
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amzamz amzamz is offline
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Join Date: Jan 2008
Location: Saarbrucken, Villefranche-sur-Mer
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... or perhaps:
Quote:
Originally Posted by Scott Triplitt View Post
Journey to the Troubadour

No lights on the horizon, hot desert air
Crossing this land, without a care
We exit the highway, just north of nowhere
To the right is eternity, to the left is despair

The journey’s been long, and much to our dismay
We’ve been working for years, for so little pay
Our lives are empty, like the words in this song
We're just trying to survive, as we move along

The lady was tall, with long black hair
Her face was grey, from the smoke in the air
Her mynah bird sat screeching, strange words in the night
“White spots on my wings, yellow wattle for hair”
“What will happen to me, when I fly through the air?”
She said this was common, to hear such a rage
She said the bird was blind and couldn’t fly anyway
We paid for our gas, and were on our way
300 miles to go, and we’d be in LA

The journey’s been long, and much to our dismay
We’ve been working for years, for so little pay
Our lives are empty, like the words in this song
We're just trying to survive, as we move along

We sped down the highway, found a place to stay
The owner smelled of whisky and showed us the way
The casitas were dusty, the linens were bare
He said not to worry, the maid would be there
An old lady came and cleaned up the room
We asked for clean sheets and she said, “It’s too soon,
Besides, they’re only changed in every other room”
She said she had friends and we could party all night
We told her, “No thanks” we’d be all right

The journey’s been long, and much to our dismay
We’ve been working for years, for so little pay
Our lives are empty, like the words in this song
We're just trying to survive, as we move along

After sleeping for a three hours, we got back on the road
Avoiding the desert heat, that we’d come to know
The bright lights of LA appeared through the haze
This time we knew, we were on our way
Doug had made us an offer, so we decided to go
The long trip would be worth it, or so we were told
The West Hollywood traffic was moving along well,
The bright lights on Santa Monica Blvd, casting their spell
We pulled up to where many had been before, we were finally at the Troubadour
Doug greeted us at the door and said with a smile, “Come on in, and play for a while”

The journey’s been long, and with all certainty
We know we took the right turn to eternity
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