You stand by the oil-stained curb
The midnight air is cold and blurred
You trade the salt for gasoline
The brightest glare you've ever seen
You are the lighthouse in the lot
A heavy beam a lonely spot
You guide the cars to room ten-four
Right beside the sliding door
Your coat is worn a heavy grey
You watch the headlights drift away
You keep the rhythm of the street
While asphalt burns beneath your feet
You are the lighthouse in the lot
A heavy beam a lonely spot
You guide the cars to room ten-four
Right beside the sliding door
You click the shutter fast and tight
To freeze the humming amber light
A polaroid of velvet blue
A jagged world that looks like you
You are the lighthouse in the lot
A heavy beam a lonely spot
You guide the cars to room ten-four
Right beside the sliding door
The Wurlitzer begins to sway
You wash the ocean spray away
The parking lot is now your shore
You do not need the coast no more
You are the lighthouse in the lot
A heavy beam a lonely spot
You guide the cars to room ten-four
Right beside the sliding door
Room ten-four, just a light.
Hold the frame, keep it bright.
