Now I'm a feller with a heart of gold 
And the ways of a gentleman I've been told 
The kind of guy that wouldn't even harm a flea 
But if me and a certain character met 
The guy that invented the cigarette 
I'd murder that son-of-a-gun in the first degree

It ain't cuz I don't smoke myself 
And I don't reckon that it'll harm your health 
Smoked all my life and I ain't dead yet

But nicotine slaves are all the same 
At a pettin' party or a poker game 
Everything gotta stop while they have a cigarette

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette 
Puff, puff, puff and if you smoke yourself to death 
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate 
That you hate to make him wait 
But you just gotta have another cigarette

Now in a game of chance the other night 
Old Dame Fortune was a-doin' me right 
The kings and the queens just kept [bad word]  round

And I got a full and I bet 'em high 
But my bluff didn't work on a certain guy 
He just kept on raisin' and layin' that money down

Now he'd raise me and I'd raise him 
I sweated blood, gotta sink or swim 
He finally called and didn't even raise the bet

So I said "aces full Pops how 'bout you?" 
He said "I'll tell you in a minute or two 
But right now, I gotta have me a cigarette"

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette 
Puff, puff, puff and if you smoke yourself to death 
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate 
That you hates to make him wait 
But you just gotta have another cigarette

(Ah, smoke it! Hah! Yes! Yes! Yes!)

The other night I had a date 
With the cutest little girl in the United States 
high-bred, uptown, fancy little dame

She loved me and it seemed to me 
That things were 'bout like they oughta be 
So hand in hand we strolled down lover's lane

She was oh so far from a cake of ice 
And our smoochin' party was goin' nice 
So help me cats I believe I'd be there yet

But I give her a kiss and a little squeeze 
And she said, "ah, Marty, excuse me please 
I just gotta have me another, cigarette"

And she said, smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette 
Puff, puff, puff and if you smoke yourself to death 
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate 
That you hate to make him wait 
But you just gotta have another cigarette.