text: Theres a place on a blank stretch of road where
  Nobody travels and nobody goes and the
  Deskman says these days round here
  Where two young folks could probably up and disappear into
  Rustlin sheets, a sleepy corner room
  Into the musty smell
  Of wilted flowers and lazy afternoon hours
  At the Moonlight Motel
  Now the pools filled with empty, eight foot deep
  Got dandelions growin up through the cracks in the concrete
  Chain-link fence half-rusted away
  Got a sign, says, Children, be careful how you play
  Your lipstick taste and your whispered secret
  I promised Id never tell
  A half-drunk beer and your breath in my ear
  At the Moonlight Motel
  Well then, its bills and kids and kids and bills
  And the ringing of the bell
  Across the valley floor through the dusty screen door
  Of the Moonlight Motel
  Last night I dreamed of you, my lover
  And the wind blew through the window and blew off the covers
  Of my lonely bed, I woke to something you said
  That its better to have loved, yeah, its better to have loved
  As I drove, there was a chill in the breeze
  And leaves tumbled from the sky and fell
  On a road so black as I backtracked
  To the Moonlight Motel
  She was boarded up and gone like an old summer song
  Nothing but an empty shell
  I pulled in and stopped into my old spot
  I pulled a bottle of Jack out of a paper bag
  Poured one for me and one for you as well
  Then it was one more shot poured out onto the parking lot
  To the Moonlight Motel