(Brian Woodbury/Bill Burnett)
Well, we’re sittin’ cheek-to-cheek down at Cantina de Juanita
when things start heatin’ up after our second margarita.
I’m givin’ mouth-to-mouth and we are seein’ eye-to-eye.
We’re kissin’ fit to kiss our inhibitions goodbye.
But when her hand starts reachin’ for my fruit-of-the-loom,
the guy behind the bar hollers, “Get a room!”
“Get a room!” I hear the fella yell
“Get a room! This is not a motel.
You’re driving off my customers, like Monday afternoon.
If you’re hungry for each other – get a room!”
We’re in no shape for drivin’ when we get back to the Chevy.
She climbs up on my lap and things start gettin’ hot and heavy.
I’m checkin’ out her chassis and she’s blowin’ on my horn.
I haven’t stuck the key in but her engine is warm.
We’re makin’ quite a scene I guess it’s safe to assume.
’Cause a cop bangs on the window, shoutin’ “Get a room!”
“Get a room! You’re attractin’ attention.
Get a room! You’re gonna wreck your suspension.
This vehicle can’t handle all that vroom-vroom-vroom.
Before I haul you asses in, now – get a room!”
Ixnay on that public display of affection, they tell us.
It’s way too risqué, they all say but I think they’re just jealous.
(Get a room.) We hear it in the elevator.
(Get a room.) we hear it in the movie the-ater.
In the backseat of the taxi, when the driver starts to fume,
“You’re steamin’ up my rear-view mirror. Get a room!”
“Get a room!” they tell us in our shopping cart.
“Get a room! It ain’t that kind of Kwik-E-Mart.”
And when the preacher tells us, “I pronounce you bride and groom,”
he says, “Get up off that altar, will ya? Get a room!
I told ya you could kiss the bride! Now, get a room!
You’ll never get to heaven till you get a room.”