Oh good heavens, baby where's my medicine?
I must have left it outside with my etiquette
The undertaker's rule of thumb
It's hard to talk with a novocain tongue
This room smells like hotel illness
The scars I hide are now your business
I can't seem to make hair nor hide of this
No baby love is not a punishment.
Hypnotize by your rotten behavior
This week's fashion is last year's flavor
I got a head full of sermons and a mouth full of spiders
The politics of the world's greatest liar
So tell me baby is it true all those things that they say about you... THE BLACK CROWES Hotel Illness lyrics, THE BLACK CROWES 1992