| Harold: |
| Well, either you’re closing your eyes |
| To a situation you do now wish to acknowledge |
| Or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster indicated |
| By the presence of a pool table in your community. |
| Ya got trouble, my friend, right here, |
| I say, trouble right here 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. |
| Never take and try to give |
| An iron-clad leave to yourself |
| From a three-reail billiard shot? |
| But just as I say, |
| It takes judgement, brains, and maturity to score |
| In a balkline game, |
| I say that any boob kin take |
| And shove a ball in a pocket. |
| And they 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. |
| An’the next thing ya know, |
| Your son is playin’for money |
| In a pinch-back suit. |
| And list’nin to some big out-a-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 |
| Sittin’on Dan Patch? Make your blood boil? |
| Well, I should say. |
| Friends, lemme tell you what I mean. |
| Ya got one, two, three, four, five, six pockets in a table. |
| Pockets that mark the diff’rence |
| Between a gentlemen 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 frittern away, |
| I say your young men’ll be frittern! |
| Frittern away their noontime, suppertime, choretime too! |
| Get the ball in the pocket, |
| Never mind gittin’Dandelions pulled |
| Or the screen door patched or the beefsteak pounded. |
| Never mind pumpin’any water |
| 'Til your parents are caught with the Cistern empty |
| On a Saturday night and that’s trouble, |
| Oh, yes we got lots and lots a’trouble. |
| I’m thinkin’of the kids in the knickerbockers, |
| Shirt-tail young ones, peekin’in the pool |
| Hall window after school, look, 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 kinda parents. |
| I’m gonna be perfectly frank. |
| Would ya like to know what kinda conversation goes |
| On while they’re loafin’around that Hall? |
| They’re tryin’out Bevo, tryin’out cubebs, |
| Tryin’out Tailor Mades like Cigarette Feends! |
| 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, |
| Headin’for the dance at the Arm’ry! |
| Libertine men and Scarlet women! |
| And Rag-time, shameless music |
| That’ll grab your son and your daughter |
| With the arms of a jungle animal instink! |
| Mass-staria! |
| Friends, the idle brain is the devil’s playground! |
| People: |
| Trouble, oh we got trouble, |
| Right here in River City! |
| With a capital «T» |
| That rhymes with «P» |
| And that stands for Pool, |
| That stands for pool. |
| We’ve surely got trouble! |
| Right here in River City, |
| Right here! |
| Gotta figger out a way |
| To keep the young ones moral after school! |
| Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble… |
| Harold: |
| Mothers of River City! |
| Heed the warning before it’s too late! |
| Watch for the tell-tale sign of corruption! |
| The moment your son leaves the house, |
| Does he rebuckle 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 memorize jokes from Capt. |
| Billy’s Whiz Bang? |
| Are certain words creeping into his conversation? |
| Words like 'swell?" |
| And 'so's your old man?" |
| Well, if so my friends, |
| Ya got trouble, |
| Right here in River city! |
| With a capital «T» |
| And that rhymes with «P» |
| And that stands for Pool. |
| We’ve surely got trouble! |
| Right here in River City! |
| Remember the Maine, Plymouth Rock and the Golden Rule! |
| Oh, we’ve got trouble. |
| We’re in terrible, terrible trouble. |
| That game with the fifteen numbered balls is a devil’s tool! |
| Oh yes we got trouble, trouble, trouble! |
| With a «T»! Gotta rhyme it with «P»! |
| And that stands for Pool!!! |