Loveless Motel Songtext

von Jill Sobule

It used to be a motel.
Now they serve biscuits and T-shirts.
I bring my own tea bag;
I don't trust the coffee.
But the biscuits are delicious.
They come eight to a plate with a big block of butter and homemade peach preserves
And I wish you were here my arrogant lover
I'd make you eat grits and the red eyed gravy.
I'd make you sit down with the southern ladies and their blue pantsuits.
I'd talk about Jesus
Talk about the weather
Watch you squirm as I told them we were married with two girls.
I'd say you were in trucking
And I was a teacher
In a Christian school where the kids are good
And they don't do drugs and they save themselves before they're married.
I wouldn't tell them that you had a wife
That wasn't me and we just had sex
And they wouldn't be impressed if I told them you knew Lou Reed

And the stars upon the wall look down at me like gods
There's Ernest Borgnine and Billy Ray Cyrus and my favorite Minnie Pearl

So I go for the coffee. It's not bad just a little weak. And I ask the waitress for another plate
Of the famous biscuits. She said you must have a bottomless pit; I said you don't know the half of it. Lately I've been so hungry.

And the stars up on the wall look down at me like gods. Mini she just shakes her head. She said "girl get your heart out of the frying pan."

It used to be a motel.
Now they serve biscuits and smoked ham.
I write you a postcard from the loveless motel