| Down the road sits the Big O Motel,
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| Where people tell lies in their own private cell.
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| With cast down eyes and a packaged surprise,
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| I come and I go we plan it just so.
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| At the Big O Motel, on the vibrating bed,
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| Cologne drenched curtains of velour red.
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| In the smoky glass mirror I look at my face,
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| But, on the bed beside me someone has taken your place.
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| By the Big O mOtel, there’s a drive through bar,
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| They’ll make you a daiquiri in a mason jar.
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| The man at the window with the receding hair line,
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| Looks away from me but says same place, same time.
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| At the Big O Motel, on the vibrating bed,
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| Cologne drenched curtains of velour red.
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| In the smoky glass mirror I look at my face,
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| But, on the bed beside me someone has taken your place.
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| The man on the corner with sausage shaped fingers,
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| After he’s gone, his cigar smoke lingers.
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| After he’s gone I take a shower,
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| I watch the clock’s hands passing the hours. |