West of Rome 
Just east of the border in a staticy 
Ramada Inn 
Polishing his boots and pummelin' his liver 
Steeped in his dark isolation 
Just what business does, he have around here 
Credentials are wearing out with each little bit of cheer 
Yes, it's a bad scene we're convening 
Brushin' his teeth and milkin' his ulcer 
Preparing to waste another wily mornin' 
Strokin' himself and phoning up his sister 
He tells her their life would make one whale of a movie 
Yes, a childhood full of dry goods and wet neglect 
The father they now sponge off of 
They have no absorbin' respect 
Yes, he's a glad boy to have such a void 
Yes, he's a martyr crawling across cobble stones 
From his cozy cottages, just west of 
Rome Yes, it's a sad state for great sufferin'