You're from out of town

I can tell that by your shoes

Flew in for the convention

Getting tipsy in a bar



You're leaving pretty late

Gotta get up in the morning

Thinking she's just too expensive

And you know you're...

Probably...

Right



There's no one on the streets

And you can't find your hotel

You walk a little faster

- someone's following you



The wallet-size bulge

In you double-knit butt

Has money for me

And maybe credit cards



You dart around the next corner

You can't look around

Quick now, fish for the keys for the door

You don't even know where you are



You walk a little faster

I walk a little faster

Sensing that I sense you

Now there's no escape



I can almost taste your dandruff

As I reach out for your face

- and I strike