Loudon Wainwright III Album

In this town television shuts off at two
What can a lonely rock & roller do
Oh the bed's so big and the sheets are clean
And your girlfriend said that you were 18
The styrofoam icebucket is full of ice
Come up to my motelroom treat me nice
I don't wanna make no late night New York calls
And I don't wanna stare at them ugly grassmatt walls
Chronologically I know you're young
But when you kissed me in the club you bit my tongue
I'll write a song for you, I'll put it on my next L.P
Come up to my motelroom, sleep with me !
There's a Bible in the drawer don't be afraid
I'll put up the sign to warn the cleanup maid
Yeah there's lots of soap end ther's lots of towels
Never mind them deskclerk's scowls
I buy you breakfast, they'll think you're my wife
Oh come up to my motelroom, save my life
Come up to my motelroom, save my life

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Well, I call you up on the phone: nobody's at home.
Then I do my usual thing: I let the telephone ring and ring and ring.
I'm standing at a phone booth, coping with the ugly truth.

You see, I know where you are... I know where you are.
You're down drinking at the bar.

I can picture you there on that stool, drinking like a drunken fool.
Yeah, you're sitting there on your ass, muttering into your glass.
Paying for your lowlife thrills with wet quarters and soggy one dollar bills.

I know where you are, baby.
You're down drinking at the bar.

Dean Martin's on the jukebox, I bet.
Or maybe it's Tammy Wynette.
The tearjerkers are jerking your tears.
Salt water in your whiskey and your beers.
You've got the Miller High Life bouncing balls.
You've got the Utica Club waterfalls.

I know where you are, oh ho.
You're down at the bar.
You're down at the bar.

Go ahead get drunk, it's alright.
Lost weekend on a Tuesday night.
But I'm going to have to give you the score:
I'm not going to call you up on the telephone no more.
I'm sick and tired of listening to that phone ring 15 times.
I'm sick and tired of getting back my dimes!

Because I know what you are.
You're at sot, that's what you are.
I know what you are.
You're a lush.
You got a big red nose!

I know where you are, baby.
I know where you are...
You're down drinking at the bar.

It's wonderful to be alive
To be a bee in this beehive
It's tough as nails, it's smooth as silk
It's milk and honey, without milk

I work with flowers, it's my work
From this, there's no way that I can shirk
No-no-no-no-no, there is no complex philosophy
It's just because I'm a bee

Unlike the skunk, I do not smell
But I have a thing and it stings like hell
As heroes go, I'm unsung
But step on me and you'll get stung
You'll get stung

The cutest bee I've ever seen
Is our own big, fat sexy queen
It's true she hasn't got such great legs
But you should see the girl lay eggs

It's wonderful to be a bee
Although there are billions just like me
This hive of mine, I call it home
There is no place like comb sweet comb

Well it's 3am, and so I creep
Around the house 'cause you're asleep
I can't sleep, I gotta smoke
I think I left some in my coat
No they're not there, but there's a chance
I left some in a packet in my pants

Bumped into the table, just below the belt
If you were a man baby you'd know how that felt
Just one thing I don't want to do
And that one thing is to wake up you
My hands are shaking, my brow it is damp
Bumped into the chair, knocked over the lamp
Bumped into the chair, knocked over the lamp

Sure I know where some cigarettes are
But it's too cold outside to go to the car
I know this habit of mine, it's gotta be fed

I'm gonna get down I'm gonna scrounge around under the bed
Under the bed, down on the floor
Up on top baby I can hear you snore
Snore baby... ooooooh
Snore baby... ooooooh
Eureka! I'm in luck
I found some matches and a crumpled butt
And just to show I love you
I'm not gonna look for an ashtray baby, I'm gonna use your shoe!

Used to have a red guitar until I smashed it one drunk night
Smashed it in the classic form as Peter Townsend might
I threw it in the fireplace, I left it there awhile
Kate, she started crying when she saw my sorry smile

Red guitar was made of wood, could not take the heat
Red guitar, it caught on fire and the damage was complete
It burned until all that was left was six pegs and six strings
Kate, she said "You are a fool, you've done a foolish thing."

I put the remains in the case and I put the case away
Went to New York City for a new guitar the next day
I bought myself a blond guitar, I had if for three days
Some junky stole my blond guitar. God works in wondrous ways

You got the black belt, I got the gun.
Let's team up tonight--have some fun.
Let's drink some drinks, find us some fights.
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon: it's Saturday night!

I'm very angry, you're hopping mad.
Let's hurt some people--let's hurt them bad.
Let's break some heads, let's bust some teeth.
C'mon, it's Saturday night: let's get some relief!

We'll get our rocks off.
We'll rape a co-ed.
La la la la la la la la la...
Beat on a wino 'til he is dead.
I'll slug a hippie, you'll plug a cop.
We'll go on a rampage and we won't wanna stop.

Oh baby.
Now they say he's helpless. I do not care.
Let's get the guy in the wheelchair.
God I hate women: they mess up your life.
I'll kill your mother, you kill my wife.

Oh darling.
It's a hard day at the office, one needs to unwind.
Let's mix up some cocktails...the Molotov kind.
Burn down the high school...the synogogue.
Let's burn down McDonald's--let's go whole hog!
Quarter pounder.

Now I know a rooftop, don't you say nope.
Let's try out your rifle, the one with the scope.
Tomorrow is Sunday, there's gonna be some parades.
Back at my house, I've got some grenades.
I've got the black belt, you've got the gun.
Hey, we're gonna team up tonight: have some fun!

Shut up and go to bed.
Put the pillow under your head.
I'm sick and tired of all of your worries.

Shut up and say goodnight.
Say your prayers and turn out the lights.
I'm sick and tired of all of your sob stories.

Shut up and shut your eyes.
No more histrionics, no more college tries.
Stop pushing. Stop shoving. Stop straining.

Shut your mouth and button your lip.
You're a late night faucet that's got a drip.
All your doing is mearly complaining.

The excuse that you're crazy is useless.
You're not biting, you're barking.
You're toothless.
But you're ruthless.

Shut up and count some sheep.
Do me a favor and don't bitch in your sleep.
No more agony.
Please, no more sorrow.

Shut up and catch some ZZZs.
Ice cream with a cherry plus a big pretty please.
I promise we'll resume tomorrow.
Good night.