In the hotel, I can’t remember how the past felt.
I rent a blank room to stop living in my past self.
Fuck now, I’m outta here tomorrow.
Fuck now, I’m outta here tomorrow,
and when I check out, it won’t matter how my name’s spelled,
‘cause when you pass through, you only keep what you can’t sell.
In the hotel, I can’t remember how the past felt.
But in a strange bed, I keep sleeping with my past self.
Fuck now, I’m outta here tomorrow.
Fuck now, I’m outta here tomorrow,
and when I check out, it won’t matter how my name’s spelled,
‘cause when you pass through, you only keep what you can’t sell.
