#1.
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Now I'm a fellow with a heart of gold,
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And the ways of a gentleman I've been told,
F A#
kind of a guy that wouldn't even harm a flea.
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But if me and a certain character met,
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the guy that invented the cigarette,
F A#
I'd murder that son-of-a gun in the first degree.
#2.
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It ain't cause I don't smoke 'em myself,
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and I don't reckon that it'll hinder your health,
F A#
I smoked 'em all my life, and I ain't dead yet.
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But nicotine slaves are all the same,
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at a pettin' party or a poker game,
F A#
everything gotta stop, while they have a cigarette.
CHORUS:
A#
Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette.
C F
Puff, puff, puff until you smoke yourself to death.
F A#
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate,
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that you hate to make him wait,
A# F A#
but you just gotta have another cigarette.
#3.
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In a game of chance the other night,
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Old Dame Fortune was good and right,
F A#
The kings and queens they kept on comin' around.
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Aw, I was hittin' 'em good and bettin' 'em high,
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but my bluff didn't work on a certain guy,
F A#
he kept callin', and layin' his money down.
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See, he'd raise me, then I'd raise him,
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and I'd say to him buddy, ya gotta sink or swim,
F A#
he finally called me but didn't raise the bet.
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Hmmm..I said, Aces Full, pal..I got you!
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He said, I'll pay up in a minute or two,
F A#
but right now, I just gotta have another cigarette.
CHORUS:
A#
Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette.
C F
Puff, puff, puff until you smoke yourself to death.
F A#
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate,
D#
that you hate to make him wait,
A# F A#
but you just gotta have another cigarette.
#4.
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Now the other night I had a date,
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with the cutest little gal in any state,
F A#
a high-bred, uptown, fancy little dame.
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She said she loved me and it seemd to me,
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that things were sorta like they oughtta be,
F A#
so, hand in hand we strolled down lovers lane.
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She was a long way from a chunk of ice,
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and our pettin' party was goin' real nice,
F A#
and I got an idea I might have been there, yet.
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So I give her a kiss and a little squeeze,
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Then she said, Travis, excuse me please,
F A#
but I just gotta have a cigarette.
CHORUS:
A#
Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette.
C F
Puff, puff, puff until you smoke yourself to death.
F A#
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate,
D#
that you hate to make him wait,
A# F A#
but you just gotta have another cigarette.
A# forties, fifties, sixties, and seventies smash from Kraziekhat.
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