Hotel California Aka Hotel Find Yourself

Flying down the freeway I almost miss the place;my goal. Where I can find the reflection of my eternal soul Something exotic and mysterious I almost fly by…. It is Hotel California, drawn by an Eagle’s eye. I park my Harley, and see pretty boys strutting around. It is a crazy desert place, there is a broken champagne sound. The excess of America is widely on display here It is 1977; and I feel a Grammy might be near. The smell of warm colitas puts a smile on my weary face I wonder to myself if I will lose my innocence in this place. A voice others might not hear comes wafting in my mind. Welcome to Hotel Find Yourself, your trip will be so kind. There are mirrors on the ceiling when I check into my room. Heaven or Hell? I wonder as I feel a strange kind of doom. In the master chambers a feast is gathered by the kin. You can kill the beast the voice says; we will let you in.