Well he’s a strapping man, tall and tanned
Hair waving in the wind
On his Harley hog, thru the desert fog
Ya never know just where he’s been

I last saw him up in Tehachapi,
Outside the Dog House Bar in black
Leather chaps and jeans, pouring whiskey clean (neat)
Into his CamelBak®

All the ladies say... that’s one cool dude... 
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
Ya’ all come back

They say he grew up fast in Tennessee
Raised by card-sharks on the run
Little lookout man at 10 years old
Where he learned to shoot a gun
With a twist of the grip, he was wild and free
Building bikes for the Sturgis show
He was a whiskey ace, one-eyed poker face
Raking in the dough

All the ladies say... that’s one cool dude... 
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
Ya’ all come back

Down on Whiskey Row, for a Prescott show
They say he met a girl named Lue
With bedroom eyes, that hypnotize
But she was just passing through
Like a match made in heaven sparking gasoline
Loving on Sedona trails
But when she snuck out down Highway 17
He stayed right on her tail
(This is true love, man...)

All the ladies say... that’s one cool dude... 
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
Ya’ all come back

words & music by Cusick, Huff & Klender

If you ever find yourself in the backwoods of the Louisiana Bayou
You might come across Bubba’s Bait Shop & Worm Emporium
Ask Bubba to tell you his story… it goes like this…

I was fishing off a swamp boat down Louisiana way
Come a gun-toting backwood beauty thru the foggy grey
Hotter than cayenne, woo, man o’ man
She could steal your heart, in her camo lingerie
They say, she’s got 11 brothers A warrior dad, one worn-out mother
Who went out for a Camel, and a gator…ate her

They call her… Louisiana Lue, pride of the bayou
Many men have tried, a few have died
Louisiana Lue, (woo), I love you Jumbalaya, fit to be tied

She had some fancy French name, but we just call her Lue…
her sparkling smile shines like a lure…careful!.. you can’t catch a gator by the tail…

She can ride a gator to the General Store
She don’t give a croc bout your 4x4
Are you tough enough,
Are you man enough
With those Daisy Duke eyes, she’ll wipe you off the floor
In the misty moonlight air
She lets down her raven hair In a swamp shack back behind the foggy bog

Oooh, Louisiana Lue, I love you
Many men have tried, a few have died
Louisiana Lue, Pride of the bayou
I wish I could make you my bride

Oooh, Louisiana Lue, I love you
Many men have tried, a few have died
Louisiana Lue, Pride of the bayou
I wish I could make you my bride

No one’s seen Lue for awhile. One day she just up and vanished into the morning fog.
So keep your eyes out for a camo-wearing swamp flower with a ponytail tucked through her hat;
She’ll be wearing gator skin boots, packing a bowie knife and a pair of .38s - you just never know…

music by Bob Huff & Richard Klender
words by Richard Klender & Bob Cusick

Instrumental

written by Bob Huff, Bob Cusick & Richard Klender
© Bob Huff Music, 2191 Music, Klenco Music (All ASCAP)
All Rights Reserved • Used by Permission

Well he’s a strapping man, tall and tanned
Hair waving in the wind
On his Harley hog, thru the desert fog
Ya never know just where he’s been

I last saw him up in Tehachapi,
Outside the Dog House Bar in black
Leather chaps and jeans, pouring whiskey clean (neat)
Into his CamelBak®

All the ladies say... that’s one cool dude... 
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
Ya’ all come back

They say he grew up fast in Tennessee
Raised by card-sharks on the run
Little lookout man at 10 years old
Where he learned to shoot a gun
With a twist of the grip, he was wild and free
Building bikes for the Sturgis show
He was a whiskey ace, one-eyed poker face
Raking in the dough

All the ladies say... that’s one cool dude... 
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
Ya’ all come back

Down on Whiskey Row, for a Prescott show
They say he met a girl named Lue
With bedroom eyes, that hypnotize
But she was just passing through
Like a match made in heaven sparking gasoline
Loving on Sedona trails
But when she snuck out down Highway 17
He stayed right on her tail
(This is true love, man...)

All the ladies say... that’s one cool dude... 
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
CamelBack Jack, CamelBack Jack
Ya’ all come back

words & music by Cusick, Huff & Klender

Woke up Sunday morning, with a Rum drink in my hand
Missed my early warning, from our doomsday weatherman
The parishes all empty, except that Bayou Bar on Main
There’s a jukebox by the dance floor
Playin’ “Who’ll Stop the Rain” (who’s gonna stop the rain?)

Board up all your windows, a storm is heading for downtown
(Grab those nails & hammer, get your ass outta town)
Anyone with sense, already up and left for higher ground
(Don’t be Jack & Jill, tumblin’ down the hill)
Better batten down those hatches When you’re dancin’ with a Hurricane
(here’s to the Hurricane)

Lue rode up on her Harley In black leathers and her lace
You should have seen that look, on that barkeep’s weathered face
She slammed down her empty shot glass Big storm brewing in her eyes
I thought, “Here we go again” I can feel the waters rise (oooh, feel that water rise)

Board up all your windows, that storm is heating up downtown
(Storm comin’ on real fast, I think she’s gonna last)
Anyone with sense, already up and left for higher ground
(Crawdads on the run, beignets on d’ bun)
Better batten down those hatches, when you’re dancing with a Hurricane (here’s to the Hurricane)

Be careful when those sunny skies turn blue
It might just be the eye of the storm
Those big brown eyes could flash & surely sink me
So strap that life vest on, baby keep me warm (baby keep me warm)

Board up all your windows, that storm is heating up downtown
(Water up to your thighs, Po’ boys & Nola fries)
Anyone with any sense, already up and left for higher ground
(Watch out for the signs, don’t get left behind)
Better batten down those hatches, when you’re dancing with a Hurricane (here’s to the Hurricane)

Board up all your windows, that storm is heating up downtown
(Pack that fishing pole, let the good times roll)
Anyone with sense, already up and left for higher ground
(Crawdads on the run, Beignets on d’ bun)
Better batten down those hatches, when you’re dancing with a Hurricane (here’s to the Hurricane)

written by Bob Huff, Bob Cusick & Richard Klender
© Bob Huff Music, 2191 Music, Klenco Music (All ASCAP)
All Rights Reserved • Used by Permission