Met the Ghost of Stephen Foster at the Hotel Paradise
This is what I told him as I gazed into his eyes:
Rooms were made for carpets
Towers made for spires
Ships were made for cannonade fire off from inside them
Gwine to run all night
Gwine to run all day
Camptown ladies never sang all the doo dah day no, no, no
Met the Ghost of Stephen Foster at the Hotel Paradise
This is what I told him as I gazed into his eyes:
Ships were made for sinking
Whiskey made for drinking
If we were made of cellophane, we'd all get stinking drunk quite faster ha, ha, ha