The Farmer’s Hotel Silver Jews

The lights went out in New York
Then they went in Goshen
I got stuck in Goshen and that was sad
The townsfolk stared hard
Like their minds had been marred
By life in a district so downtrodden and drab

I flagged down a stranger
In a worn wooden wheelchair
And when I asked if he knew of a hotel
He said "if I get your meaning
Then I'm definitely leaning
Towards recommending the Farmer's Hotel."

As I left to find the place
A mother looked me in the face
And whispered "please sir, not the Farmer's Hotel."
Once where I was headed
She swore I would regret it
What might happen she wouldn't foretell

The old place it was vicious
Wicked and pernicious
"Please stay clear of that rank abattoir"
Though her words alarmed me
I was stuck until morning
And in the end we must be who we are