| Could-a been the whisky, might-a been the gin
|
| Could-a been the three or four six packs, I don’t know
|
| But won’t you look at the mess I’m in
|
| A head like a football, I think I’m going to die
|
| But tell me, a-me oh, me oh my
|
| Wasn’t that a party
|
| Someone had a grapefruit, wore it like a hat
|
| I saw someone under my kitchen table, talking to an old tomcat
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| He were talking about football
|
| The cat was talking back
|
| Along about then everything went black
|
| Wasn’t that a party
|
| I’m sure it’s just my memory
|
| Playing tricks on me
|
| But I believe I saw my buddy
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| Sittin' up in my neighbour’s tree
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| He was singin' a folk song
|
| Sounded pretty good
|
| Woulda sounded better if his wife hadn’t made such a racket
|
| Choppin' up my neighbour’s wood
|
| I think it was his wood pile
|
| It could’ve been his door
|
| I know she musta got three or four
|
| But wasn’t that a party
|
| Bill, and Joe and Tommy
|
| Went a little far
|
| They were sitting in the front yard
|
| Blowing on the siren
|
| Of somebody’s police car
|
| And so you see, Your Honour
|
| It was all in fun
|
| That little bitty track meet down on main street
|
| Was just to see if the cops could run
|
| They run us in to see you
|
| In an alcoholic haze
|
| And I sure can use those thirty days
|
| But wasn’t that a party
|
| They run us in to see you
|
| In an alcoholic haze
|
| And I sure can use those thirty days
|
| But wasn’t that a party |