Melody Motel  
    (Difford/Tilbrook)  
      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

      (c) 1989 Virgin Music Inc. (ASCAP)


  • Chords
  • FROM THE ALBUM: Frank.
  • COMPILATIONS: Excess Moderation (where it is sloppily mislabelled Melody Hotel).
  • LIVE VERSIONS: "Third Rail" CD single #2.
  • From the Excess Moderation sleevenotes. Glenn: Lyrically speaking a distant half-cousin of "The Knack", in that it's another slice of Americana. Musically, it's Dolly Parton with James Burton on guitar. Chris: Sam Shepard meets Danny Baker. How did Glenn ever get used to cramming so many of my words into our songs in the way he did? I take my hat off to him with this one in particular.