Throw another log on the fire, boys, while I unfurl a tail
I've been all over this continent, I've been from coast to coast
I've even been up as far as Quebeck Mass
I've fought my way up to the Nile, to the very top floor
And I've even tracked a polecat to its pole
I've had the yellow jack, I've been shot full of holes
I've even grabbed an army mule plumped by the plumper
But I've never been so rip-sort, highfalutin' mad
As the night I was reclining on my Louis XIV derriere
It all started when the telephone tinkled
Picking up the receiver, I said, uh, oui, oui
You see, it was a French phone
The Secretary of State was calling
He said, Jimmy, we need you for an important mission
Do you know anything about foreign relations?
I said, foreign relations?
Why, you're talking to a guy who's got 15 relatives living in Brooklyn
How pre-prosperous
So I said to him, Sec, I addresses him in the subjunctive
My regrets, but I never converse business over the phone
I'll see you tomorrow in D.C. at P.M., sharp
So that evening, at cocktail time
I gets aboard the Congressional Limited
The train was jammed, so what happens?
I had to share my upper boat with a guy named Joe
It was too crowded up there for both of us to get undressed at the same time
So, height comes down, Joe stays up
He takes off his coat
Then Joe comes down, I goes up, I takes off my shoes
I comes down, Joe goes up, he takes off his shirt
Joe comes down, I goes up, I takes off my pants
I comes down, Joe goes up, he puts on his pajamas
Joe comes down, I goes up, I puts on my pajamas
Now we're ready to lie down and go to sleep
And what happens? It's morning
We gotta start all over again
Height comes down, Joe stays up, he takes off his pajamas
Joe comes down, I goes up, I takes off my pajamas
Height comes down, Joe goes up, he puts on my pants
Joe comes down, I goes up, I puts on his shirt
Height comes down, Joe goes up, he puts on his pants
puts on my shoes. Joe comes down, I goes up, I puts on his coat. Now I don't know whether I'm
Joe or Joe is me. It's a case of double identity. He gets off at my station, I gets off at his
station. His wife runs over to me, throws her arms around my neck, gives me a kiss and says,
congratulations, Joe. You're the father of a nine pound baby boy. What a dilemma. But what could I
do about it? Nothing. So I went to Hoboken to forget. And then I went to Hackensack to forget
Hoboken. That's my story, boys. So throw another log in the fire. What? No more logs? Good night,
folks. Good night.