Track 6 of the album Weather Diaries · 2015
Room Four-Eleven, Late Corridor
“A hotel corridor in rose and gold, written on tour and sung half asleep. It drifts rather than moves.”
operatic pop · dream pop · lounge · 4:14
Lyrics
The lift doors sigh and let me out Onto a hush of rose and gold Brass numbers glowing down the hall A thousand doors, a thousand stories untold The carpet swallows every step A tray of dishes waits outside Somewhere a television hums Somewhere a stranger's lullaby Nobody knows my name out here And that is strangely kind Oh, walk the long corridor slow Let the lamplight lead you on Every door is a different life And mine is waiting down the hall Walk the long corridor slow Let the quiet carry you home For one night, between here and there I'm a traveller, and I'm all right The ice machine hums out its song A window shows the sleeping town I count the doors the way I once Counted stars when the lights went down Nobody knows my name out here And that is strangely kind Oh, walk the long corridor slow Let the lamplight lead you on Every door is a different life And mine is waiting down the hall Walk the long corridor slow Let the quiet carry you home For one night, between here and there I'm a traveller, and I'm all right Four-eleven, softly gold The key card blinks its tiny green Tomorrow I will say hello Tonight I only want to dream Oh, walk the long corridor slow Let the lamplight lead you on Every door is a different life And mine is open now Walk the long corridor slow Let the quiet carry you home For one night, between here and there I'm a traveller, and I'm all right Four-eleven, softly gold I'm all right