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 your 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 for your face
—And I strike