Duty Free

[Verse 1]
No chocolate in the duty free shop
Two drops of scotch gonna end up on his crotch tonight
All alone, sitting on the throne
Some native tongue on the TV
Blaring like an old Peavey

[Chorus 1]
He don't aim to be rude
He's fighting with his inner prude
Some pommes frites, and you know it's gonna drip
Onto his lap, yes, see the man slapping it off

[Verse 2]
Traveling will do him in
Trudging through the waves of people
'Til his heart is cluttered and feeble

[Chorus 2]
If you take him out of his loop
He may be very easily duped
Still he beats the stampede for the duty free
He's using up all that old currency
He's using up all that old currency
Using up all that old currency