Ya Got Trouble

Robert PrestonRobert Preston 

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Robert Preston

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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 one, two, three, four, five, six 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 daught 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 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)

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