|With His Pants In His Hand|
|by C. Carson Parks|
|With His Pants In His Hand
Out the window, down the alley
He's traveled mountains and valleys
With His Pants In His Hand
Old Boston town, just so sincere,
Beautiful lass, young musketeer
Then comes along old Paul Revere,
Who shouts, "The Redcoats are here!"
He's with a girl that he adores
And she suggests just one beer more
Then comes a knockin' at the door,
He grabs my shoes from off the floor.
It seems to happen all the time,
He's with a girl who's so subline
Just when their pulses start to climb,
He hears a doorbell or a chimb!
He's with a girl who's pure delight
He stays too long to say goodnight
No matter what they say is right,
He ain't the one to stand and fight.
Whenever opportunity knocks,
He plays it slyer than a fox
Then, when He gets down to his socks,
He hears the rattlin' of the locks
Just when his heart begins to rule,
His feet say "Man, Don't be a fool!"
No matter what they say is cool,
He ain't goin' stand and fight no duel!
When she invited him inside,
How could he know she was a bride
Then, later on, forget the pride,
He gotta run, to save his hide.
It's just the story of his life
He didn't know she was a wife
But to abvoid all kinds of strife,
He trusts his feet to save his life.
Sweet land of liberty he craves.
Land of the free, home of the brave.
But, when his skin he needs to save,
He ain't goin' turn around and wave!
Right down thru history he runs
Dodgin' an arrow and a gun
And no matter what the people have to say
He'll live to love another day.
|© Greenwood Music Co.|