(Difford/Tilbrook)  



He drove up to the motel   

In his town and country car  

He watched the working women   

With the field hands from the farm  

He walked into the lobby   

With his pleased to see you smile  

Scribbled on to the register   

His fictitious name and smiled  

The footsteps of a young girl   

Came tapping along the hall  

The outline of his features   

Were shadowed on the wall   

She stood a little nervous   

Half lit by the neon light   

That flashed in many colours   

Through the darkness of the night  



The skin on his face   

Like a well worn saddle  

Smiled as he said goodnight  

At the melody motel   

It was business as usual  

As the girls wiped the tears from their eyes  



His shirt lay by his bedside   

His jeans down by his feet  

She swallowed hard and mumbled   

With the key between her teeth  

On went the television   

The picture flickering slow  

Top cat in the alley way   

As they sat there all alone  



He drove back up his driveway   

In his town and country car  

His wife was cooking chicken   

With a baby in her arms  

The smell of home cooked dinner   

Filled the air at home that night  

Screaming Officer Dibble   

In the TV's flickering light   



Slumped in his favourite armchair   

His face as grey as stone  

His feet up on the table   

Next to the chicken bones  

He seemed to show no feelings   

Picking corn out from his teeth   

Police down at the motel   

As the blood dried on the sheets