Whiskey, whiskey, the singer's getting sore.

We raise the roof now and we're lowering the floor.

When I say one, two, you say three, four.

One, two, three, four.

All together, all together gone.

It's now or never if you want another song.

On and on goes the ring of the bell Off we go, this song won't sing itself

so soldiers at my side come on it's you and me tonight whiskey whiskey the singer's getting sore we raised the roof now we're lowering the floor the band is blistered but we got a little bore

When I say one, two, you say three, four.

One, two, three, four.

Oh, Mr. Moonlight, you gotta let him play.

If the devils wanna dance, then the piper wants his pay.

Hide me in a hiding place where good sense never goes.

Take me to the fountain where the fire water flows.

We'll find our alibis and lies and lose ourselves tonight.

Whiskey, whiskey, the city's getting sore.

When I say one, two, you say three, four.

One, two, three, four.

Trying to get the whole room on the dance floor is like trying to put a square peg in a round hole.

I'm not saying it ain't something that you shouldn't try to do.

Don't do it for me, though.

Do it for you.

You've been minding your manners and behaving yourself, but there's still a lot of bottles left to find the shelf.

So with my little whistle now, I'll give it a dog a bone.

I can take it up right now.

You can't do it alone.

Soldiers at my side.

It's you and me tonight.

Whiskey, whiskey, the singer's getting sore.

We raised the roof, now we're lower in the floor.

The band is blistered, but we got a little more.

When I say one, two, you say three, four.

One, two, three, four.

Whiskey, whiskey, the cigarette's getting sore.

We've raised the roof, now we're lower in the floor.

The band is blistered, but we've got a little more.

When I say one, two, you say three, four.

One, two, three, four.