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
Until you've been in
A motel baby
Like the Holiday Inn.



Deleted verse:
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.