Floyd's Hotel - J. Geils Band

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

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