Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Tell it to the Constable

A real Johnny Scuffles classic...

She liked smokin' menthol cigarettes
Said that their taste was smooth
Had a sister named Marguerite
Them chicks was always on the move
Well, I remember them tinted windows
On her beat up ol’ Pontiac
And ever' time the cold wind blows
I want my Rhonda back

Mini skirts in Texas
Stockings down to Tennessee
Babe, I ain't got no exes
I got a long list o’ tragedy

So you can tell it to the Constable
You can say your prayers to him
So that I can have my sacrament
Of bitters, lime, and gin

Well, I keep my pills in a tin box
An' I got just one sock on
I thought that baby was a tiger
But she turned out to be a fox-trot con
And, no, I didn't see it comin'
No, not till my money was gone
And so I smoked my last cigarette
And I passed out at dawn

You know, them mini skirts in Texas
Them stockins down in Tennessee
Babe, I ain't got exes
But I got a long list o’ tragedy

So you can tell it to the Constable
Yeah, you can say your prayers to him
So that I can have my sacrament
Of bitters, lime, and gin

Convicted early one mornin'
They released me later that night
Was shipped to a mental institution
Where them drinks is just alright

You can see the bottom of a stiff one
You can drink until your blind
But, man, you go with that damn pretty lady
An' you're bound to lose your mind
And them blues is all you'll find
Yeah them blues is all you'll find

So go tell it to the Constable
And just say your prayers to him
So that I can have  my sacrament
Of bitters, lime…and gin

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