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Hotel Illness

Oh good heavens, baby where's my medicine?

I must have left it outside with my etiquette

The undertaker's rule of thumb

It's hard to talk with a novocain tongue

This room smells like hotel illness

The scars I hide are now your business

I can't seem to make hair nor hide of this

No baby love is not a punishment.

Hypnotize by your rotten behavior

This week's fashion is last year's flavor

I got a head full of sermons and a mouth full of spiders

The politics of the world's greatest liar

So tell me baby is it true all those things that they say about you...

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written by ROBINSON, RICH S./ROBINSON, CHRISTOPHER MARK

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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