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Artist:C.W. McCall  Album:C.W. McCall & Co. 

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Now, I'll tell ya a tale that'll bust yer heart That only a few people knew, ta start It all took place when our concert tour was booked at the SeaTac Hilton? I'll guarantee ev'ry word's the Gospel truth Got witnesses ta prove it, too, 'Cause we all toured with a fella by the name a' Milton Now Milton was o-fficial tour director, Electrical piano-playin' plug connector An' the slave-drivin'-est travel conductor That we ever seen in our lives He'd say "Whaddya mean, ya need more rest? "The world don't care whether ya look yer best! "Simply show up promptly at six A.M. with your instruments ...and your wives!" Shall we gather at the airport? He'd always arrive in the nick a' time A good five minutes ahead a' flight time A-lookin' like he'd been drug through a needle's eye He'd stand there, stoned and about ta choke On his Egg McMuffin an' his giant Coke An' then he'd throw all the tickets on the counter and say "Check the bags and let's fly!" "Well, whaddya mean, this is too much weight? "We only got forty-six pieces a' freight! "And if it don't go, who's gonna explain it to our fan club in Tacoma?" We'd all get embarassed an' head for the plane While Milton stood there, bein' profane But somehow he always managed ta get on board ...in sort of a coma When the drinks were served up yonder... Well, we deplaned at th' other end All the trouble seemed to commence again Though Milton had ordered three station wagons, a pickup truck and a limo And though he'd phoned ahead to that Number Two Cussin' an' fussin' an' turnin' blue We'd always end up with two Datsoons and a Pinto Now Milton took all a' that stuff in stride Laid on the floor, an' kicked an' cried But we always looked up to him for hope and salvation But we'd sink to the bottom a' trav'lers hell When he'd check us in a remote motel And he'd grab the clerk by his shirt an' tie an' say "Whaddya mean, ¿no reservaciónes?" Milton's getting bolder... He'd shut himself in room one-oh-four Let nobody in 'til he swept the floor Adjusted the lampshade, aligned the TV, fixed the faucet, called the promoter "Well, whaddya mean we're the warmup show? "You're puttin' me on! We're stars, ya know! "And this ain't the way we was

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