At Amber

I'm calling you from the foyer

Of the Sands Hotel

Where the men and the women

Are acquainted quite well

And the drunkards keep on drinking

And oh, my room is cold

I'm disputing the bill

I will sleep in my clothes

And you, my invalid friend

You slam the receiver when you say

"If I had your limbs for a day

I would steam away"

I'm calling you from the foyer

Of this awful hotel

Where the slime and the grime

Gel

And I cannot - or, I do not

And oh, my room is cold

And I'm envying you never having to choose

And you, my invalid friend

You slam the receiver when you say

"If I had your limbs for a day

I would steam away"

I'm calling you from the foyer

Of the Sands Hotel

It's not low-life, it's just people

Having a good time

And oh, my invalid friend

Oh, my invalid friend

In our different ways we are

The same