Boston at last and the plane's touching down Our hostess is handing the hot towels around From a terminal gate to a black limousine It's a ten minute ride to the Holiday Inn
Boredom's a pastime that one soon acquired Where you get to the stage where you're not even tired Kicking your heels till the time comes around To pick up your bags and head out of town
Slow down Joe, I'm a rock and roll man I've twiddled my thumbs in a dozen odd bands And you ain't seen nothing till you've been In a motel baby like the Holiday Inn
Oh I don't even know if it's Cleveland or Maine With the buildings as big and rooms just the same And the TV don't work and the French fries are cold And the room service closed about an hour ago
