Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! (That Cigarette) Songtext

von Asleep at the Wheel

Now I'm a feller with a heart of gold
And the ways of a gentleman I've been told
The kind of fella 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

It ain't cuz I don't smoke myself
And I don't reckon that it'll hinder your health
You know I've smoked 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 have a cigarette

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette
Puff, puff, puff and if you puff yourself to death
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate
That you hate to make him wait
But you gotta have another cigarette

Now in a game of chance the other night
Old Dame Fortune was a-doin' me right
Those kings and the queens just kept on comin' round

And 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

Now he'd raise me and I'd raise him
I sweated blood, I gotta sink or swim
He finally called and didn't even raise the bet

So I said "aces full pal how 'bout you?"
He said "I'll tell you in a minute or two
But right now, I gotta have a cigarette"

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette
Puff, puff, puff and if you puff yourself to death
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate
That you just hate to make him wait
But you gotta have another cigarette

The other night I had a date
With the cutest little girl in all the states
A high-bred, uptown, fancy little dame

Now she said she loved me and it seemed to me
That things were just like they oughta be
So hand in hand we strolled down lover's lane

She was oh so far from a chunk of ice
And our smoochin' party was goin'real nice
So help me had I think I'd been there yet

But I give her a kiss and a little squeeze
And she said, "ah, Ray, excuse me please
But I just gotta have me another, cigarette"

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette
Puff, puff, puff and if you puff yourself to death
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate
That you just hate to make him wait
But you gotta have another cigarette