Colorado Cool-Aid Lyrics
| Song | Colorado Cool-Aid |
| Artist | Johnny Paycheck |
| Album | Biggest Hits |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : P. Thomas | |
| 作词 : P. Thomas | |
| (Written by Phil Thomas) | |
| Well, I was sittin' in this beer joint down in Houston, Texas. | |
| Was drinkin' Colorado Kool-Aid and talkin' to some Mexicans, | |
| An' we was....what's that you say? | |
| What's Colorado Kool-Aid? | |
| Well, it's a can of Coors brewed from a mountain stream. | |
| It'll set you head on fire an' make your kidneys scream, | |
| Oh, it sure is fine. | |
| Yeah, we was havin' ourselves one of them real good times. | |
| But you know every beer joint that you've ever been in, | |
| Some big, mean drunk who just ain't got no friend, | |
| Sure enough, he wants to fight, | |
| Yeah, he's gonna whip everything in sight. | |
| Well, he took him a big swallow of beer, | |
| And he spit in my Mexican friends ear. | |
| And, sure enough, that made my buddie real mad. | |
| That's somethin' like he ain't never had. | |
| Well, sir, he pulled out a big, long switch blade knife; | |
| Quick as a whistle he began to slice. | |
| An, that big mean drunk stood back, his face full of tears, | |
| Lookin' down at the floor, an' one of his ears. | |
| Ha, he cut that thing off, even with the sideburns. | |
| You might say the little Mexican fella, he just didn't give a durn. | |
| But he was a gentleman about it, an' bent over and with a half way | |
| grin, | |
| Picked it up and handed it back to him. | |
| He said: "Now big man, you get the urge to spit a little beer, | |
| "Just open up your hand there, and spit it in your own ear. | |
| "Won't be no trouble that way." That's what I heard him say. | |
| And I said: "Barmaid, set us up a round of that Colorado Kool-Aid. | |
| "An while you're up their, bring this big fella, here, a box of Band | |
| aids." | |
| Now let me tell you: if you're ever ridin' down in south of Texas, | |
| Decide to stop an' drink some Colorado Kool-Aid, | |
| An' maybe talk to some Mexicans, | |
| An' you get the urge to get a little tough, | |
| Better make damn sure you got your knife proof ear-muff. | |
| Hey, ain't that right big man? I said ain't that right big man? | |
| Ah, hell he can't hear, not on this side anyway, he ain't got no ear. | |
| Hey barmaid, bring us all a big, tall glass of that Colorado Kool-Aid. | |
| How about it? | |
| How you doin', big man? Still got your ear there in your hand? | |
| Fade out. |
| zuo qu : P. Thomas | |
| zuo ci : P. Thomas | |
| Written by Phil Thomas | |
| Well, I was sittin' in this beer joint down in Houston, Texas. | |
| Was drinkin' Colorado KoolAid and talkin' to some Mexicans, | |
| An' we was.... what' s that you say? | |
| What' s Colorado KoolAid? | |
| Well, it' s a can of Coors brewed from a mountain stream. | |
| It' ll set you head on fire an' make your kidneys scream, | |
| Oh, it sure is fine. | |
| Yeah, we was havin' ourselves one of them real good times. | |
| But you know every beer joint that you' ve ever been in, | |
| Some big, mean drunk who just ain' t got no friend, | |
| Sure enough, he wants to fight, | |
| Yeah, he' s gonna whip everything in sight. | |
| Well, he took him a big swallow of beer, | |
| And he spit in my Mexican friends ear. | |
| And, sure enough, that made my buddie real mad. | |
| That' s somethin' like he ain' t never had. | |
| Well, sir, he pulled out a big, long switch blade knife | |
| Quick as a whistle he began to slice. | |
| An, that big mean drunk stood back, his face full of tears, | |
| Lookin' down at the floor, an' one of his ears. | |
| Ha, he cut that thing off, even with the sideburns. | |
| You might say the little Mexican fella, he just didn' t give a durn. | |
| But he was a gentleman about it, an' bent over and with a half way | |
| grin, | |
| Picked it up and handed it back to him. | |
| He said: " Now big man, you get the urge to spit a little beer, | |
| " Just open up your hand there, and spit it in your own ear. | |
| " Won' t be no trouble that way." That' s what I heard him say. | |
| And I said: " Barmaid, set us up a round of that Colorado KoolAid. | |
| " An while you' re up their, bring this big fella, here, a box of Band | |
| aids." | |
| Now let me tell you: if you' re ever ridin' down in south of Texas, | |
| Decide to stop an' drink some Colorado KoolAid, | |
| An' maybe talk to some Mexicans, | |
| An' you get the urge to get a little tough, | |
| Better make damn sure you got your knife proof earmuff. | |
| Hey, ain' t that right big man? I said ain' t that right big man? | |
| Ah, hell he can' t hear, not on this side anyway, he ain' t got no ear. | |
| Hey barmaid, bring us all a big, tall glass of that Colorado KoolAid. | |
| How about it? | |
| How you doin', big man? Still got your ear there in your hand? | |
| Fade out. |
| zuò qǔ : P. Thomas | |
| zuò cí : P. Thomas | |
| Written by Phil Thomas | |
| Well, I was sittin' in this beer joint down in Houston, Texas. | |
| Was drinkin' Colorado KoolAid and talkin' to some Mexicans, | |
| An' we was.... what' s that you say? | |
| What' s Colorado KoolAid? | |
| Well, it' s a can of Coors brewed from a mountain stream. | |
| It' ll set you head on fire an' make your kidneys scream, | |
| Oh, it sure is fine. | |
| Yeah, we was havin' ourselves one of them real good times. | |
| But you know every beer joint that you' ve ever been in, | |
| Some big, mean drunk who just ain' t got no friend, | |
| Sure enough, he wants to fight, | |
| Yeah, he' s gonna whip everything in sight. | |
| Well, he took him a big swallow of beer, | |
| And he spit in my Mexican friends ear. | |
| And, sure enough, that made my buddie real mad. | |
| That' s somethin' like he ain' t never had. | |
| Well, sir, he pulled out a big, long switch blade knife | |
| Quick as a whistle he began to slice. | |
| An, that big mean drunk stood back, his face full of tears, | |
| Lookin' down at the floor, an' one of his ears. | |
| Ha, he cut that thing off, even with the sideburns. | |
| You might say the little Mexican fella, he just didn' t give a durn. | |
| But he was a gentleman about it, an' bent over and with a half way | |
| grin, | |
| Picked it up and handed it back to him. | |
| He said: " Now big man, you get the urge to spit a little beer, | |
| " Just open up your hand there, and spit it in your own ear. | |
| " Won' t be no trouble that way." That' s what I heard him say. | |
| And I said: " Barmaid, set us up a round of that Colorado KoolAid. | |
| " An while you' re up their, bring this big fella, here, a box of Band | |
| aids." | |
| Now let me tell you: if you' re ever ridin' down in south of Texas, | |
| Decide to stop an' drink some Colorado KoolAid, | |
| An' maybe talk to some Mexicans, | |
| An' you get the urge to get a little tough, | |
| Better make damn sure you got your knife proof earmuff. | |
| Hey, ain' t that right big man? I said ain' t that right big man? | |
| Ah, hell he can' t hear, not on this side anyway, he ain' t got no ear. | |
| Hey barmaid, bring us all a big, tall glass of that Colorado KoolAid. | |
| How about it? | |
| How you doin', big man? Still got your ear there in your hand? | |
| Fade out. |
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