OK folks....I'm pretty sure we've been privy to the Hotel California....prettty much the greatast song since god decided that man should have the power to make music.

Here's to one we made at University, inspired by a lad called Graham Smith, inspired by his political hero Tony Crossland.

On a dark dessret highway, cool wind in my hair,
Warm smell of the hometown, rising up through the air,
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a glimmmering light,
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim,
I had to stop for the night.

There he stood in the doorway, I heard his mission yell,
Then I thought to myself this could be heaven or this could be hell,
Yes, he lit up a candle, and I heard him say,
"There were voices down the coridor, yes I heard them say."


Welcome to the hotel tony crossland
Such a lovely place
He's got a lovely face
Plenty of room at the hotel tony crossland
Any time of year, you can find it here

His mind is tiffany-twisted, he got the mercedes bends
He got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.
Some dance to remember, his dance to forget

So I called up the captain,
�please bring me my wine�
He said, �we haven�t had that spirit here since nineteen ninety nine�
And still those voices are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say...

Welcome to the hotel tony crossland
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
They livin� it up at the hotel tony crossland
What a nice surprise, got your happy rand.

Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink champagne on ice
And she said �we are all just prisoners here, of our own device�
And in the master�s chambers,
They gathered for the feast
The stab it with their communist knives,
The reds just can�t kill the beast