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