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