by James Young & Ted Buckner
Last night, night before,
twenty-four robbers came to my door.
Opened the door and let them in,
I hit ’em in the head with a bottle of gin
Just can’t, understand,
twenty-four robbers fighting one man.
One of them took the silverware,
it wasn’t very good, so I really don’t care.
I’m gonna warn you (warn you)
I’ll tell you what to do (what to do)
You’d better lock your door (lock your door)
Cause the robbermen might come back again
I can’t sleep, anymore,
put a big chair right by my front door.
Got a shotgun and stood it there,
to keep the robbers out of my hair.