| Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 1:59 | 
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| 2. |
| 2:24 |
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| 3. |
| 1:53 |
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| 4. |
| 2:02 | 
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CHORUS
Chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug Make you want to holler hi-de-ho Burns your tummy, don'tcha know Chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug Grape wine in a Mason jar Homemade and brought to school By a friend of mine 'n' after class Me and him and this other fool decide that we'll drink up what's left Chug-a-lug, so we helped ourself First time for everything Mm, my ears still ring CHORUS 4-H and FFA on a field trip to the farm Me 'n' a friend sneak off behind This big old barn where we uncovered a covered-up moonshine still And we thought we'd drink our fill And I swallered it with a smile *Bllll-bbbb*, I run ten mile CHORUS Jukebox 'n' sawdust floor Sumpin' like I ain't never seen And I'm just going on fifteen But with the help of my finaglin' uncle I get snuck in For my first taste of sin. I said "Lemme have a big old sip" *Bllll-bbbb*, I done a double back flip CHORUS |
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| 5. |
| 1:45 |
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Well,I sit here gettin' ideas
Ain't nothing but a fool would live like this Out all night and runnin' wild Woman sittin' home with a month old child [Chorus] Dang me, dang me They oughta take a rope and hang me High from the highest tree Woman would you weep for me. Just sittin' around drinkin' with the rest of the guys Six rounds bought, and I bought five Spent the groceries and half the rent I like fourteen dollars having twenty seven cents. [Chorus] They say roses are red and violets are purple Sugar is sweet and so is maple surple Well I'm the seventh out of seventy sons My pappy was a pistol I'm a son of a gun. [Chorus] |
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| 6. |
| 1:48 |
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I hear tell you're doin' well,
Good thing have come to you. I wish I had your happiness And you had a do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka-do. They tell me you're runnin' free, Your days are never blue. I wish I had your good-luck charm And you had a do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka-do. Yeah, I see you're goin' down the street in your big Cadillac, You got girls in the front, you got girls in the back, Yeah, way in back, you got money in a sack, Both hands on the wheel and your shoulders rared back Root-doot-doot-doot-doot, do-wah. I hear tell you're doin' well, Good things have come to you. I wish I had your happiness And you had a do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka-do. Yeah, I see you're goin' down the street in your big Cadillac, You got girls in the front, you got girls in the back, Yeah, way in back, you got money in a sack, Both hands on the wheel and your shoulders rared back Root-doot-doot-doot-doot, do-wah. I hear tell you're doin' well, Good things have come to you. I wish I had your good-luck charm And you had a do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka, do-wacka-do. |
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| 7. |
| 2:25 |
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| 8. |
| 2:15 |
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| 9. |
| 1:57 |
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England swings like a pendulum do,
Bobbies on bicycles, two by two, Westminster Abbey the tower of Big Ben, The rosy red cheeks of the little children. Now, if you huff and puff and you fina'lly save enough Money up to take your family on a trip across the sea, Take a tip before you take your trip; let me tell you where to go, Go to Engeland, Oh; Mama's old pajamas and your papa's mustache, Falling out the window sill, frolic in the grass, Tryin' to mock the way they talk fun but all in vain, Gaping at the dapper men with derby hats and canes. |
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| 10. |
| 2:27 |
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| 11. |
| 2:50 |
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| 12. |
| 2:28 |
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Two broken hearts lonely looking like
Houses where nobody lives. Two people each having so much pride Inside Neither side forgives. The angry words spoken in haste, Such a waste of two lives, It's my belief, Pride is the chief cause and the decline In the number of husbands and wives. A woman and a man, a man and a woman; Some can and some can't And some can't. |
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| 13. |
| 2:20 |
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Got a letter just this mornin' it was postmarked Omaha
It was typed and neatly written offerin' me this better job Better job at higher wages, expenses paid and a car But I'm on TV here locally and I can't quit, I'm a star Ha ha, I come on TV grinnin,' wearin' pistols and a hat It's a kiddy show and I'm a hero of the younger set I'm the number one attraction every supermarket parkin' lot I'm the king of Kansas City, no thanks, Omaha, thanks a lot [Chorus:] Kansas City star, that's what I are Yodel-deedle ay-hee, you oughta see my car I drive a big old Cadillac with wire wheels, got rhinestones on the spokes I got credit down at the grocery store And my barber tells me jokes I'm the number one attraction every supermarket parkin' lot I'm the king of Kansas City, no thanks, Omaha, thanks a lot [Chorus] Stay tuned, gonna have a Popeye cartoon in a minute. |
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| 14. |
| 2:27 |
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Trailer for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents. No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room I'm a man of means by no means King of the road. Third boxcar, midnight train Destination, Bangor, Maine. Old worn out clothes and shoes, I don't pay no union dues, I smoke old stogies I have found Short, but not too big around I'm a man of means by no means King of the road. I know every engineer on every train All of their children, and all of their names And every handout in every town And every lock that ain't locked When no one's around. I sing, Trailers for sale or rent Rooms to let, fifty cents No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room I'm a man of means by no means King of the road. |
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| 15. |
| 2:50 |
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| 16. |
| 3:16 |
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Busted flat in Baton Rouge
Waitin' for the train Feelin' nearly faded as my jeans Bobby thumbed a diesel down Just before it rained Rode us all the way to New Orleans I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna And was playing soft While Bobby sang the blues With them windshield wipers slappin' time I was holdin' Bobby's hand in mine We sang every song that driver knew Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose Nothin' ain't worth nothin' but it's free Feelin' good was easy, Lord, When he sang the blues And feelin' good was good enough for me Good enough for me and Bobby McGee From Kentucky coal mines To the California sun Bobby shared the secrets of my soul Through all kinds of weather, Lord Through everything I done Bobby baby kept me from the cold Then somewhere near Salinas, Lord I let him slip away Lookin' for the home I hope he'll find it And I'd trade all of my tomorrows For one single yesterday Holdin' Bobby's body next to mine Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose Nothin' left is all that Bobby left me Feelin good was easy, Lord When he sang the blues And buddy, that was good enough for me Good enough for me and Bobby McGee |
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| 17. |
| 3:09 |
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| 18. |
| 1:58 |
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| 19. |
| 2:21 |
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| 20. |
| 1:48 |
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| 21. |
| 2:35 |
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| 22. |
| 2:23 |
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