Waiting For The Hurricane Chris De Burgh

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Standing in the foyer of the grand hotel
Suitcase in his hand looking for a bill
There's a hurricane coming and everyone's 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's 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's a movement to the telephone
But nobody's calling home tonight
They've taken out the very last flight
And they close down the borderline

'cos there ain't 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