Tom Russell - Evangeline hotel

Well, she ^Gmoves like Betty Grable She's an ^Cactress waiting ^Gtables And all her tips are kept inside a wishing ^Dwell She's got an ^Gagent down the hall He's got her ^Cphoto on his ^Gwall She's got a room at the E^Dvangeline Ho^Gtel

And from the ^Gtenth floor fire escape She can ^Csee the great white ^Gway But not the street and not the eyes of those who ^Dfell She dreams she ^Gsees her name in lights She dreams that ^Cdream every ^Gnight Room ten-o-four at the E^Dvangeline Ho^Gtel

It's "Rock of ^DAges Cleft for Thee" She's just a ^Cchild of Tennes^Gsee Her daddy's girl, her golden curls locked in a ^Dspell Where you don't ^Gplay your music loud And there ^Cain't no men al^Glowed On Friday nights at the E^Dvangeline Ho^Gtel

You make it ^Ghere, so they declare Then you can ^Cmake it anywhere ^G Those old clichés ring through the halls just like a ^Dbell But tell it ^Gto the ones who wait Behind the ^C23rd Street ^Ggate On Friday nights at the E^Dvangeline Ho^Gtel

It's "Rock of ^DAges Cleft for Thee" She's going ^Cback to Tennes^Gsee She's got a watch and winter coat that she can ^Dsell She learned the ^Ghard unspoken rule And things you ^Cnever learned in ^Gschool All down the halls at the E^Dvangeline Ho^Gtel

And you can ^Gknock on any door Any ^Croom on any ^Gfloor It's all the same at the E^Dvangeline Ho^Gtel ^{C G} The house of dreams called the E^Dvangeline Ho^Gtel