Text: Johnny Horton. Honky Tonk Hardwood Floor.

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 thing that you adore
You keep a havin' your fun you lucky son of a gun on a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor

Your payday's Saturday you're broke on Sunday come Monday you're feelin' saur
You got big black eyes that you pick up from little from a little guy the night before
So you swear off off to drinkin' but when you get to thinkin'
Bout the goodtimes you had oh Lord
So keep a havin' your fun you lucky son of a gun on a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor