Ya Got Trouble

Lyrics

A pool table, don't you understand?
 Friend, either you're closing your eyes to a situation you do not wish to acknowledge
 Or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster
 Indicated by the presence of a pool table in your community
 Well, ya got trouble my friend
 Right here I say, trouble right in River City, why sure, I'm a billiard player
 Certainly, mighty proud I say, I'm always mighty proud to say it
 I consider that the hours I spend with a cue in my hand are golden
 Help you cultivate horse sense and a cool head and a keen eye
 Did you ever take and try to find and iron-clad leave for yourself
 From a three-rail billiard shot?
 But just as I say it takes judgement, brains and maturity to score
 In a balkline game, I say that any boob
 Can take and shove a ball in a pocket
 And I call that sloth the first big step on the road to the depths of deg-ra-day
 I say, first, medicinal wine from a teaspoon, then beer from a bottle
 And the next thing you know your son is playing for money in a pinch-back suit
 And listenin' to some big outta town jasper, hearin' him tell about horse race gamblin'
 Not a wholesome trottin' race, no, but a race where they set down right on the horse
 Like to see some stuck-up jockey boy, settin' on Dan Patch? Make your blood boil
 Well I should say
 Now friends, let me tell you what I mean
 You got 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 pockets in a table
 Pockets that mark the difference between a gentleman and a bum
 With a capital "B" and that rhymes with "P" and that stands for pool
 And all week long your River City youth'll be fritterin' away
 I say, your young men will be fritterin'
 Fritterin' away their noontime, suppertime, choretime too
 Get the ball in the pocket, never mind gettin' dandelions pulled
 Or the screen door patched or the beef steak pounded
 Never mind pumpin' any water, 'til your parents are caught with the cistern empty
 On a Saturday night and that's trouble
 Yes, you got lots and lots of trouble, I'm thinkin' of the kids in the knickerbockers
 Shirt-tail young ones, peekin' in the pool hall window after school
 You got trouble, folks, right here in River City, trouble with a capital "T"
 And that rhymes with "P" and that stands for pool
 Now I know all you folks are the right kind of parents
 I'm gonna be perfectly frank
 Would you like to know what kinda conversation goes on while they're loafing around that hall?
 They be tryin' out Bevo, tryin' out cubebs
 Tryin' out Tailor Mades like cigarette fiends
 And braggin' all about how they're gonna cover up a tell-tale breath with Sen-Sen
 One fine night, they leave the pool hall
 Heading for the dance at the Arm'ry
 Libertine men and scarlet women, and ragtime, shameless music
 That'll grab your son, your daughter with the arms of a jungle, animal instinct
 Mass-staria
 Friends, the idle brain is the devil's playground
 Trouble (oh, we got trouble)
 Right here in River City (right here in River City)
 With a capital "T" and that rhymes with "P" and that stands for pool (that stands for pool)
 We've surely got trouble (we've surely got trouble)
 Right here in River City (right here)
 Gotta figure out a way to keep the young ones moral after school
 (Our children's children gonna have trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble)
 Mothers of River City, heed that warning before it's too late
 Watch for the tell-tale signs of corruption
 The minute your son leaves the house
 Does he re-buckle his knickerbockers below the knee?
 Is there a nicotine stain on his index finger?
 A dime novel hidden in the corn crib?
 Is he starting to memorise jokes from Cap'n Billy's Whiz Bang?
 Are certain words creeping into his conversation
 Words like, like "swell"? (Trouble, trouble, trouble)
 And so's your old man? (Trouble, trouble, trouble)
 Well if so, my friends, you got trouble (oh we got trouble)
 Right here in River City (right here in River City)
 With a capital "T" and that rhymes with "P" and that stands for pool (that stands for pool)
 We've surely got trouble (we've surely got trouble)
 Right here in River City (right here)
 Remember the Maine, Plymouth Rock and the Golden Rule
 (Our children's children gonna have trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble)
 Oh, we got trouble, we're in terrible, terrible trouble
 That game with the fifteen numbered balls is a devil's tool (devil's tool)
 Oh, yes we got trouble, trouble, trouble
 (Oh yes we got trouble here, we got big, big trouble)
 With a "T" (with a capital "T")
 Gotta rhyme it with "P" (gotta rhyme with "P")
 And that stands for pool (that stands for pool)
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:47
Key
1
Tempo
122 BPM

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