Antsy McClain and The Trailer Park Troubadours inspector 372

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Alone in a motel at the end of the day
My hands in my pockets, my mind far away
jingling my car keys and pacing around
I pulled out a white piece of paper I found
And all it said, once I held it in view
Inspected by number 372
The curl of the 7, the flare of the 3
Said a feminine hand wrote this number for me
It was printed in black but the number was blue
And written by Inspector 372
More than a number - To me you are real.
More like a spirit that's making me feel
Like I’m more than a salesman who lives at the wheel
Maybe I’m crazy but I swear I know you
Lonely Inspector 372 ©Antsy McClain
I can see you there now at your sewing machine
Pulling on buttons and tugging the seams
Just passing the time telling stories and jokes
With 371 other folks
I know you feel nameless, the way that I do
Lonely Inspector 372
Unsung and forgotten by most I am sure
But here in my pocket your memory will endure
So I’m keeping your number, should there come a chance
of Meeting the girl who inspected these pants
So hey if you’re out there, this one’s for you
Nameless Inspector 372
Lonely Inspector 372

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