Written by Jerry Cantrell
Day break, wind is blowing strong
No escape, caught on a reef in the storn
Castaway, licking his cracked lips sore
Patient, waits, hoping the rats reach the shore...yeah...yeah
Yesterday, seems a lifetime now
Remembering those he left and how
Out in space laughing at all below
Island stage, plays to his thoughts and ego...yeah...yeah
Dusk fall, fading sun no fire light
Memories amplify his plight
Gathering, searching for shelter above
Feel the sting, choking on hoarded love...yeah...yeah
Thin, cold, tired...castawayI know a dark secluded place
A place where no one knows your face
A glass of wine a fast embrace
It's called...Hernando's Hideaway...OL?
All you see are silhouettes
And all you hear are castanets
And no one cares how late it gets
Not at Hernando's Hideaway...OL?
At the Golden Fingerbowl or any place you go
You can meet your Uncle Max and everyone you know
But if you go to the spot that I am thinking of
You will be free...to gaze at me
And talk of love
Just knock three times and whisper low
That you and I were sent by Joe
Then strike a match and you will know
That you're in Hernando's Hideaway...OL?
ooohh yeah!
move over here a little closer...
mmmmm....
HEY!
Oh just knock three times and whisper low
That you and I were sent by Joe
Then strike a match and you will know
That you're in Hernando's Hideaway.