F**k Motel

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

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