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The J. Geils Band
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Floyd's Hotel
Let me tell ya 'bout it
She had big rosy red hips
Really nice and round
She had juicy red lips
That really lay me down
She stuck me in a taxi
And drove me way cross town
Guess where she took me?
She took me down
Down to Floyd's Hotel
She brought me down
Down to Floyd's Hotel
They got a lotta cheap rooms
Always somethin' nice to sell
Smilin' Jim
He's the cat that checks you in
Big fat smilin' Jim
You know he signs you in
Don't ask where you're goin'
He don't care where you been
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Oh, they're 'bout to get me, baby
They're about to hit me, too
Come on, Tarzan, howl
They got a fella there
They call him Tyrone
Fella hangs out in the hall
They call him Tyrone
Just give him five dollars
He can really turn you on
Check out
Everybody sing it now
C'mon down
Down to Floyd's Hotel
C'mon down
Down to Floyd's Hotel
They got a lotta cheap rooms
Always somethin' nice to sell
Take me with you, baby
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