"Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! (That Cigarette)" lyrics - PHIL HARRIS

PHIL HARRIS
"Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! (That Cigarette)"

Now I'm a fella with a heart of gold
The ways of a gentleman
I've been told
The kind of a guy that wouldn't even harm a flea
But if me and a certain character met
That guy that invented that cigarette
I'd murder that son of a gun in the first degree
Well not because I don't smoke myself
I don't reckon they'll harm your health
I've smoked all my life and I'm not dead yet
But nicotine slaves are all the same
At a pettin' party or a poker game
Everything's must stop while they smoke a cigarette

Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! that cigarette
Puff! Puff! Puff
And if you smoke yourself to death
Tell Saint Peter at the golden gate
That you hate to make him wait
But you got to have another cigarette

Now in a game of chance the other night
Old Dame Fortune was doing me right
The kings and queens just kept on comin' round
I played 'em hard and I bet 'em high
But my bluff didn't work on a certain guy
He kept on raisin' and layin' that money down
Yeah he'd raise me, and I'd raise him
I sweated blood, gotta sink or swim
He finally called, but he didn't raise the bet
I said aces full, pal
How 'bout you?
He said well I-I'm gonna tell you in a minute or two
But right now I got to have a cigarette

Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! that cigarette
Puff! Puff! Puff
And if you smoke yourself to death
Tell Saint Peter at the golden gate
That you hates to make him wait
But you gotta have another cigarette

Now the other night I had a date
With the cutest little gal in the 48 states
A high bred up-town fancy little dame
She said she loved me
And it seemed to me
That things were about like they oughtta be
So Hand in hand we strolled down lover's lane
She was oh so far from a cake of ice
Our smoochin' party was going nice
So help me Hannah I think I'd've been there yet
But I'd give her a kiss and a little squeeze
And she said, "Phil, would you excuse me please
But I got to have a cigarette."

Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! that cigarette
Puff! Puff! Puff
And if you puff yourself to death
Tell Saint Peter at the golden gate
That you hate to make him wait
But you got to have another cigarette

[Pouring sounds]
Man, that's coffee