Honky‐Tonk Hardwood Floor Songtext
von Johnny Horton

The 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 girl that you′ll 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' sour
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 goodtimes you had, oh Lord
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