It's a cheap hotel, the heat pipes hiss The bathroom's down the hall, and it smells like piss It's another night in another town And I'm another blues
in his chair Pick a fight with mama Complain about us kids getting in his hair At night he'd sit alone and smoke I'd see his frown behind his lighter's flame Now
Happy Anniversary, baby It's been a year now since you moved away Even though I asked you to go I miss you every day I miss you in the evenings Alone
When they ask about us As friends always do Remember the good times Honey, we had a few I'll never condemn you I'll take all the blame You got a good
There's a big storm a coming Of this I've no doubt That storm's gonna blow your little world inside out When the wild winds let up When the violence
said with your eyes You and me, hey, weren't we something? You're holding my hand in that picture hanging in the hall Well, I took it down after you left Now
hell and hallowed ground Every single one of us could use some mercy now Every single one of us could use some mercy now Every single one of us could use some mercy now
Packing vagabond visions and a dream drenched hunger for a home Swaddled in road dirt, blood stained blankets and poems On a stormy suitcase Sunday I
Well, I stared out of the windshield into the rain so light And I turned on my dims, and somebody flashed me their brights And I reached over and turned
When the Saints Go Marching In" A second line forms and they wave white hankies in the wind Satchmo takes a solo, and he flashes his million dollar smile Marie
Happy anniversary, baby It's been a year now since you moved away And even though I asked you to go I miss you every day I miss you in the evenings Alone
said with your eyes You and me, hey, weren't we something? We're holding my hand in that picture hanging in the hall Well, I took it down after you left Now
It's a cheap hotel, the heat pipes hiss The bathroom's down the hall and it smells like piss It's another night in another town And I'm another blues
his chair Pick a fight with mama Complain about us kids getting in his hair At night he'd sit 'lone and smoke I'd see his frown behind his lighter's flame Now
There's a big storm a coming, of this I've no doubt That storm's gonna blow your little world inside out When the wild winds let up, when the violence
and hallowed ground And every single one of us could use some mercy now Every single one of us could use some mercy now Every single one of us could use some mercy now
Packing vagabond visions and a dream drenched hunger for a home Swaddled in road dirt, blood stained blankets and poems On a stormy suitcase Sunday, I
Written by Fred Eaglesmith Well, I stared out of the windshield into the rain so light And I turned on my dims, and somebody flashed me their brights
