Hotel Rooms

I'm flying on a Blue Dream tonight
Too many hotel rooms in such a short time
I can't tell if it's the weed or the nefarious fumes
From this rotten city that dispels the gloom

A phone call agitates my serenity
My lover on the other end breathing heavily
Says she wants to just be friends with me
I end the call with brevity, I helplessly

Collapse back into my thoughts with pity
Incidentally, I'm obliged to get a bit more high
Pick up the phone again and call a lady of the night
She isn't hard to find in this city

Leaves, clean up, guilt, coming down
I cry while I plead to my lover on the phone again
She takes me back
I go home again