Lyrics Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! (That Cigarette) - Tex Williams

Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! (That Cigarette)

Now I’m a fellow with a heart of gold
With the ways of a gentleman I’ve been told
The kind of fellow that wouldn’t even harm a flea
But if me and a certain character met
The guy that invented the cigarette
I’d murder that son-of-a-gun in the first degree
'Course, it ain’t cause I don’t smoke myself
And I don’t reckon they hinder your health
I’ve smoked them all my life and I ain’t dead yet
But nicotine slaves are all the same
At a pettin' party or a poker game
Everything’s gotta stop while they smokes a cigarette
(Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette)
(Puff, puff, puff and if you smoke yourself to death)
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate
That you hates to make him wait
You’ve gotta have another cigarette
In a game of chance the other night
Old Dame Fortune was doin' me right
The kings and the queens just kept on comin' around
I got a full and I bet 'em high
But my bluff didn’t work on a certain guy
He just kept on raisin' and layin' that money down
He’d raise me, I’d raise him
I sweated blood, you gotta sink or swim
He finally called, didn’t raise the bet
I said «aces full pal, how 'bout you?»
He said «I'll tell you in just a minute or two
Right now, I just gotta have myself a cigarette»
(Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette)
(Puff, puff, puff and if you smoke yourself to death)
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate
That you hates to make him wait
You’ve gotta have another cigarette
The other night I had me a date
With the cutest little gal on East 50 States
One 'em high-bred, uptown, fancy little dames
She said she loved me and it seemed to me
That everything’s bout like it oughta be
So hand in hand we strolled down lover’s lane
She was oh so far from a chunk of ice
Our smoochin' party was goin' real nice
So help me, Hannah I’m thinking I’ve been there yet
I give her a kiss, a little squeeze
She said, «Tex, excuse me please
But I just gotta have a filtered cigarette»
(Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette)
(Puff, puff, puff and if you smoke yourself to death)
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate
That you hates to make him wait
You’ve just gotta have another cigarette