Smoke, Smoke, Smoke Songtext
von Sammy Davis Jr.

Three, four

Now I′m a fella 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
I mean the guy who invented the cigarette
Well, I'd murder that son of a gun in the first degree

Now it's not ′cause I don′t smoke myself
And I've read the thing it′ll harm your health
But I've smoked all my life and I ain′t dead yet
But nicotine slaves are all the same
At a petting party or a poker game
Everything must 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 gotta have another cigarette (gotta have another)


Now in a game of chance the other night
Old dame fortune was a doing me right
The kings and the queens just kept on coming 'round

Well, I played ′em hard and I let 'em high
But my bluff didn't work on a certain guy
He kept on raising and laying his 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 raise the bet

I said, "Aces full pal, how ′bout you?"
He said "I'll tell you in a minute or two
But right now, I gotta have a cigarette"

Oh, 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 gotta have another cigarette (gotta have another)

Now the other night I had a date
With the cutest little girl in 50 states
A high browned up, kind of fancy little lady
She said loved me and it seemed to me
That, that things were going ′bout as they oughta be
So hand in hand we walked down lover's lane


She was, oh, so far from a cake of ice
And our smooching party was going nice
Help me Hannah, I think I′d have been there yet
I give her a kiss and a little squeeze
And she said, "Oh Sam, excuse me please
But I just gotta have another cigarette"

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

And the next time, don't bring no filters