The Roosevelt Hotel
The haunting red of the Roosevelt Hotel
palm trees silhouetted in old-fashioned shadows
Crescent moons pulsate beneath the water
reaffirming foolish childhood dreams
Such as a good book begins in morning
turn the page
and night has crept in again
The famous girl sits and drinks her scotch
smokes a long ciggie as I stand and watch
Hoping to catch her eyes
just for a fleeting moment
of innocuous glee
The drunken Greek man mumbles
as the girl stumbles
between what she was and what she is now
and words that mean nothing
fly-into-the sky like birthday balloons
In that pallid moon
amongst the false glamour of Los Angeles
with empty pockets full of dreams
watching those living parts of life
they thought they had missed
only to find they forgot what it is to exist
I raised my glass one last time
cheers to the ghosts of the Roosevelt
the ghosts of L.A.
those who never found their way
and those so unfortunate whom chose to stay
goodnight haunting hills
and the living dead
goodnight Roosevelt
and the ambiguous life you have led