It's Hotel California! Except not!
Warm smell of 224 rising up through the air.
Up ahead in the distance I saw a shimmering light.
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to practice tonight.
There I stood by the Steinway. I heard the union bell.
I was thinking to myself this could be heaven or this could be hell.
Then he picked up an Altus, and he showed me to play.
There were voices down the corridor, thought I heard them say:
Such a lovely place,
With nice practice space.
Plenty of fun at the B-Dub Con-(ifornia).
Any time of year,
You can find me here!
He's got lots of pretty, pretty flutes that he calls cool.
How they play in old Gamble. Sweet summer sound.
Some play to lose themselves, some play to be found.
So I called up the flutist. Please bring me my Powell.
He said we haven't had that instrument here since 1994.
But still those voices are calling from far away.
Wake you up in the middle of the night just to hear them say:
Such a lovely place,
With nice practice space.
They're livin' it up at the B-Dub Con-(ifornia).
And it's no surprise
That there's no straight guys.
And he said we are all just prisoners here of our own device.
And in the basement chambers, they gathered for the feast.
They buy it with their Jacket cards, and they just can't seem to cease.
Last thing I remember was running for the door.
I had to find a passage back to the place I was before.
Relax said Dwight Oltman, we are programmed to receive.
You can walk out anytime you like, but you can never leave.