[1] He drank whiskey for his liver he smoked cigarettes for his lungs
He loved the [4] women for his ego he died a rounder at twenty [1] one
He never [4] worked down at the [1] sawmill he couldn't [4] stand that bright sun-[1]-shine
He lived twenty one years in his life it was a [4] thousand in his [1] time

It was a night when the blues had hit him he must have drank three fifths of rum
He got mad as hell when I told him you'll never live past twenty one
Well if a man ever hit me harder I don't know where or when
He picked me up off the bar floor he said I'd like to be your friend

The other night overheard him talkin' to an old man at the bar
He said oh daddy I love you I just don't like where you are
Tell mama to turn my light on and turn down my feather bed
I'll be twenty one tomorrow but tomorrow he was dead

There were twenty one miles to the graveyard and twenty one roses red
This is the story of a rounder who at twenty one he was dead
He drank whiskey for his liver he smoked cigarettes for his lungs
He loved the women for his ego he died a rounder at twenty one
He died a rounder at twenty one
He died a rounder at twenty one