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