It's 6:44 AM at the Highland Inn
I've been here since midnight
Another '40s film on TCM
welcomes in the daylight

I'm looking at black-and-white ghosts piped in from
another dimension speaking in gibberish at me
I don't know what they're saying

Another cocktail party, another sordid affair
in the hotel lobby
I don't know if I'm sleeping on the job or in a trance
just trying to awaken my cinephiliac hobby

by staring at black-and-white ghosts piped in from
another dimension speaking in gibberish at me
I don't know what they're trying to tell me

At 8 o'clock the boss walks in
picks up the remote and turns the TV off saying,
"Man, I don't know how you can stay awake watching this stuff."
I just sleepily smile back at him and grab my backpack
I've got nothing to say in response
I don't even know if I remember how to speak English

I've lost it looking at the black-and-white ghosts piped in from
another dimension speaking in gibberish at me

And if you go down to Atlanta, Georgia
and spend a night at the Highland Inn on North Highland Avenue
If you go down to the lobby at 6:44 AM in the morning
for the complimentary continental breakfast or whatever
you might see Vic or me looking at

the black-and-white ghosts piped in from
another dimension speaking in gibberish at me