Hotel

Out through the snow on the road That leads to our new home for the fall There's nowhere to go and the cold Is chilling to the bone, yet I know I'm not a former author I think I still can write If I can find some new things Inside that twisted head of mine A place cold as hell, is this sweet dark hotel With hardly any people around That can stop me from write Or murder my family All on my own in this cold Makes me lose control Of my soul There's nowhere to hide from myself It's chilling to the bone I'm not a former author I think I still can write If i can find some new things Inside that twisted head of mine Of mine A place cold as hell, is this sweet dark hotel With hardly any people around That can stop me from write Or murder my family A place cold as hell, is this sweet dark hotel With hardly any people around That can stop me from write Or murder my family A place cold as hell, is this sweet dark hotel People around Can't stop me from write