You've got your hammock strung bimbo
You've got your magnetic hippo
You've got your coat hanging up on Monroe
And you've got that smell in the fuck motel
With your gushing gas flow
And your plexi glass window
It's a wonder that we even go
And you know damn well it's a fuck motel
There goes postcard Romeo
And here comes Cholo and Cojo
You've got the wheeze beats of Asthmatico (A.T.)
And you know Guiselle in the fuck motel
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