(DiffordTilbrook)



He drove up to the motel

In his town and country car

He watched the working women

With the field hands from the farm

He walked into the lobby

With his pleased to see you smile

Scribbled on to the register

His fictitious name and smiled

The footsteps of a young girl

Came tapping along the hall

The outline of his features

Were shadowed on the wall

She stood a little nervous

Half lit by the neon light

That flashed in many colours

Through the darkness of the night



The skin on his face

Like a well worn saddle

Smiled as he said goodnight

At the melody motel

It was business as usual

As the girls wiped the tears from their eyes



His shirt lay by his bedside

His jeans down by his feet

She swallowed hard and mumbled

With the key between her teeth

On went the television

The picture flickering slow

Top cat in the alley way

As they sat there all alone



He drove back up his driveway

In his town and country car

His wife was cooking chicken

With a baby in her arms

The smell of home cooked dinner

Filled the air at home that night

Screaming Officer Dibble

In the TV's flickering light



Slumped in his favourite armchair

His face as grey as stone

His feet up on the table

Next to the chicken bones

He seemed to show no feelings

Picking corn out from his teeth

Police down at the motel

As the blood dried on the sheets