Harry Connick, Jr. - The Last Payday

Danny was an old-time Bourbon Street barker
Who wanted the same as Charlie Parker
And always cued-up a ball
Thinking he was one rack away
But even when you run the table
The check still seems small
When it`s your last payday

The shallow pocket changer
Who always took advantage of strangers
Tried to make a five-grand grab
With a split second getaway
But he forgot that a bag of money
Ain't worth much on a slab
When it`s your last payday

That line about luck just can`t be bought
You`re always lucky `til you get caught
Trouble will find you, no need to look
And luck won`t help when they close the book

I know a lot of young fellas in here
Especially those on the highest tier
Still want to believe
That Santa comes in a sleigh
They`re right about the long white beard
But wrong about Christmas Eve
What`s Christmas, when it`s your last payday

Written by:
HARRY CONNICK JR, RAMSEY MCLEAN

Publisher:
Lyrics © SHAPIRO BERNSTEIN & CO. INC.

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