Just taking a drink to
The end of the bar, buddy
Let her be
Now don't you be a fool
I'd rather have a hot seat
In Sing-Sing Prison
Than to sit there by her
On that stool
What's that you say
Are you looking for a fight, buddy
T'ain't nothing to me
Do you see that man
At the end of the bar, buddy
Now you see that she
Belongs to him
I can tell by the
Way he looks at you, buddy
That he's sure a quick tempered
Jealous man
What's that you say
Are you looking for a fight, buddy
T'ain't nothing to me
Now, there you are
Stretched out on the floor, buddy
Now you see what
You have made him do
They have come to
Take him off to jail, buddy
But tomorrow
Someone's gonna bury you
Oh, well, that's life
Or as it was
T'wern't nothing to me
Writer(s): Pat Patterson
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