Ten-Finger Johnny, on the first day of July
He loved the season's grand displays of fireworks in the sky
(Way, hey, toora loora lay)
And so he drove across the state line to the fireworks stand
He came back with a string of firecrackers in his hand
He struck a match, and lit them up, and everybody ran
Except for Johnny
(Way, hey, boom, and up she goes)
Six-Finger Johnny, on the second of July
And his need for large explosions still had not run dry
(Way, hey, toora loora lay)
So he went walking down Main Street with two M-80s he had found
And set them off in the gazebo at the center of the town
And when the fuse began to sputter, no one stood around
Except for Johnny
(Way, hey, boom, and up she goes)
Three-Finger Johnny, on the third day of July
Jonesing for the ultimate in pyrotechnic highs
(Way, hey, toora loora lay)
He tied a brick of Johnny Rebs onto a model plane
And then he doused the whole shebang in 93 octane
It flew straight up, and straight back down, but nobody was maimed
Except for Johnny
(Way, hey, boom, and up she goes)
One-point-five Limb Johnny, on the fourth day of July
Hopped to the construction site to give it one last try
(Way, hey, toora loora lay)
Inside the foreman's trailer was a case of dynamite
Johnny held a Zippo ‘tween his toes and set it burning bright
The foreman saw the sparks begin, and everyone took flight
Except for Johnny
(Way, hey, boom, and up she goes)
They buried Johnny on the fifth day of July
And everyone in town turned out to say their last goodbye
(Way, hey, toora loora lay)
And though they knew he was a moron, no one could dispute
The depth of Johnny's dedication to his life's pursuit
And sixty-seven Roman candles fired off in salute
To the sixty-seven pieces left of Johnny
(Way, hey, boom, and up she goes)