Justin C Ward - Grand Hotel

Samantha left for Amsterdam
To meet with Jean Michel
In the lobby of the grand hotel
The traffic was in such a jam
It was the night before noel
And her baggage didn't come off the carousel
She never thought what a fool I am
She couldn't break the spell
And anyway she-had-nothing left to sell

Jean-Michel was a businessman
His wife was called Racquel
And she always wore Coco Chanel
They took cocaine by the gram
They lost all sense of smell
And they drank a lot of Muscatel
By the time he met with Sam
The marriage was a shell
They were in their own private hell

Samantha ran into the grand and rang the little bell
At 3AM they didn't have a lot of personnel
She asked them have you seen this man
The concierge said, "Well; From that photo it's a little hard to tell"
But the chambermaid said, "Why, Madame
Or is that mademoiselle?
Him and his wife they're regular clientele"

He'd said his marriage was a sham
Samantha gave a yell
And sat down in a telephone carrel
As his number rang and rang
She felt the anger swell
It was a feeling, she found hard to dispel
She put the phone down with a slam
And as she ran she fell
Down the steps, into the cold river Amstel

Samantha hardly ever swam
That call was her death knell
She knew in heaven she was going to dwell
She cursed that double dealing man
For a lowdown infidel
It was the last breath she ever would expel
The police found him on the lam
Heading for Coquelles
On the French side of the Channel Tunnel

So if it's Christmas in the Netherlands
And you look up Jean Michel
He'll be in a padded cell
He'll try to make you understand
Sam was a jezebel
Who didn't know the meaning of farewell

He'll tell you from behind his hands
Her ghost's a sentinel
Still waiting for him, any time he steps in, for a scotch and a San Miguel
Saying, "Qu'est-ce que tu t'appelles?"
Like some snow-white Pimpernel
In the lobby of the grand hotel

Written by:
JUSTIN CHARLES WARD

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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