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Jess Willard - Honky Tonk Hardwood Floor | Текст песни

The fiddles are squeakin'
The guitars are speakin'
The piano plays a jelly-roll
The man on the drum is out from dumb
And the bassman - he plays from his soul
The tables are quakin'
And your nerves are shakin'
But you keep on beggin' for more
You keep a havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun

On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
You keep a havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor

There's a waitress handy
And she don't sell candy
And she don't sell soda pop
And there's a fat bartender
Who's there to serve you
If you really want to blow your top
If you got no money then there's a little honey
She's a thing that you adore
You keep a havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor

Your payday's Saturday
You're broke on Sunday
Come Monday, you're feelin' sore
You got big black eyes that you pick up
From a little guy the night before
So you swear off the drinkin'
But when you get to thinkin'
'Bout the good times you had, oh Lord
So keep a havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor.

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