Honky Tonk Hardwood Floor    (1951)

The fiddles are squeakin', the guitars are speakin'
The piano plays a jelly-roll
The man on the drums is far from dumb and the bassman he plays from his soul
The tables are quakin' and your nerves are shaky
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 the gal that you adore
So 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

Your payday's Saturday, you're broke on Sunday
On Monday you're feelin' sore
You got two black eyes that you picked up
From a little guy the night before
So you swear off to drinkin' but when you get to thinkin'
'bout the good times you had galore
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

Lyrics by Scotty Harrell and Eddie Hazelwood.
Recorded by Hardrock Gunter; Johnny Horton.


Lyrics are provided for informational and educational purposes only. Lyrics are
subject to all U.S. copyright laws and remain property of their respective owners.