Honky Tonk Hardwood Floor - Tim O’Brien

He fiddles’re squeekin' the guitars’re speakin' the piano plays a jelly-roll

The man on the drum is out from dumb and the bassman he plays from his soul

The tables’re quakin' and your nerves’re shakin' but you keep on beggin' for

more

You keep a havin' your fun you lucky son of a gun on a honky tonk hardwood floor

On a honky tonk hardwood floor on a honky tonk hardwood floor

You keep a havin' your fun you lucky son of a gun on a honky tonk hardwood floor

There’s a waitress handy and she don’t sell candy and she don’t sell soda pop

And there’s a fat bartender who’s there to serve you if you really wanna blow

your top

If you got no money then there’s a little honey she’s a thing that you adore

You keep a havin' your fun you lucky son of a gun on a honky tonk hardwood floor

On a honky tonk hardwood floor…

Your payday’s Saturday you’re broke on Sunday come Monday you’re feelin' saur

You got big black eyes that you pick up from little from a little guy the night

before

So you swear off off to drinkin' but when you get to thinkin'

Bout the goodtimes you had oh Lord

So keep a havin' your fun you lucky son of a gun on a honky tonk hardwood floor

On a honky tonk hardwood floor…