Standing in the foyer of the grand hotel,
Suitcase in his hand looking for a bill,
There抯 a hurricane coming and everyone抯 trying to get away;
Time of the season, time of the year,
The weather reporter from miami is clear,
"find a save place to hide," there抯 no place here;
And then the lights go down,
In that caribbean town,
And the fishing boats that go out from the coast,
Are tied up and dry, yeah yeah yeah,
Suddenly there抯 a movement to the telephone,
But nobody抯 calling home tonight,
They抳e taken out the very last flight,
And they close down the borderline,
抍os there ain抰 nowhere to hide,
Waiting for the hurricane,
There is nowhere here to hide,
Waiting for the hurricane,
Oh there is nowhere you can hide,
Waiting for the hurricane, no no no no...
Staring out the window of the grand hotel,
The sea was roaring, I remember well,
And then the honeymoon bride began to cry,
But as the band played on,
Some old love song,
Well he held her hand,
Gave her to understand,
It抣l be alright, yeah yeah yeah,
Suddenly there抯 a movement to the radio,
But nobody抯 getting home tonight,
They抳e taken out the very last flight,
And they closed down the borderline,
抍os there ain抰 nowhere to hide,
Waiting for the hurricane,
There is nowhere here to hide,
Waiting for the hurricane,
Oh there is nowhere you can hide,
Waiting for the hurricane,
Oh there is nowhere you can hide,
Waiting for the hurricane,
Oh oh, waiting for the hurricane,
Oh oh, waiting for the hurricane,
No no no no...
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