Coronas I love,
And I smoke one after I dine,
And I am praisin' good Cohibas,
With a cognac, they're so fine,
I just can't believe the embargo is still goin'.

Smokin' down to stogie's end,
There's one last smoke ring I blow
After stogie's end.

Havanas are the best smokers,
Made by hand--Havana leaves and no blends.

I can keep one emberin'
By lighting on all sides.
When the light flickers out,
I've started
To make my lungs fall and rise.
Even though I wheeze,
I'm gonna keep on a-smokin'.

Smokin' down to stogie's end,
There's one last smoke ring I blow
After stogie's end.

And my voice sounds like a croaker.
Hand me, please, my oxygen mask again.

I get the doc's forecast.
He says, " Son, you'll burn a hole
In your lips or maybe in your lung set,
So you'd better quit 'em, cold,
Or you're not, you're not
Gonna see many more mornings."

Chokin', I say, "Stogies' end;
I swear that I'll never smoke
A stogie again!"

I'll smoke Havanas no longer.
Havana, goner; now Copenhagen.

Chawin', I say, "Stogies' end,
I swear that I'll never smoke. . ."
Chawin', I say, "Stogies' end,
I swear that I'll never smoke. . ."
Chawin', I say, "Stogies' end,
I swear that I'll never smoke. . . ."