| We went to the room and we bolted the door
|
| The bass from the jukebox
|
| Was coming through the floor
|
| And out through the walls
|
| We could still hear the roar of the trains
|
| Was this all the comfort we got for our sins?
|
| No candles, no waiters, no soft violins?
|
| A dirty electric convector plugged into the mains
|
| I had wanted much more
|
| For the first night with you
|
| But the railway hotel
|
| Was the best I could do
|
| I knew the Savoy
|
| Would have suited you well
|
| But the best I could do
|
| Was the railway hotel
|
| Away in the sky were the lights out a jet
|
| Burning in the night like a slow cigarette
|
| The lamp in the street
|
| Threw a soft silhouette on the wall
|
| And though it was crumbling and rundown and dead
|
| A chair and a sink and an old single bed
|
| The love we began and the things that we said, I recall |