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On "Grand Hotel" (1932)
The Berlin Grand Hotel imitates Life
People come, people go, says Lewis Stone
Nothing ever happens (no kids, no wife)
We check into our rooms, play with the phone
We pretend to be people we are not
Putting on masks before speaking loud
Noticing others, their things sold and bought
Lemmings walking in the same plain old crowd
I couldn't be the Baron, I'm Preysing
Kringelein's pathetic, I am him, too
Anonymous bellboy, not surprising
I know someone can feel my words- it's you
"Grand Hotel" is ancient, it creaks and moans
It's one Oscar sits, and we're all alone
