(This is the story about the lady that raised me…)
Get up! Get out!
Well, she was born in a log cabin in the back woods of Blackwood Mississippi She drank moonshine, chewed tobacco, raised thirteen children all by herself Never looked much like a lady You see – she was too busy providin’ and raisin’ her babies Spends her evenings sittin’ in a rockin’ chair Never had much o’ nothin’, but was always willin’ to share
Ma – Talkin’ about Ma, yea! Talkin’ about my momma Talkin’ about Ma, yea!
Education? She didn’t have none Never had a sick day in her life Stronger than any two good men You better believe it – oh yes she was! Now looky here: When pappa died momma put her love on the shelf – yes she did She swore up and down on the good book – she would love nobody else Made sure that we were in church every Sunday “Pappa would’ve wanted it that way”, that’s what she’d always say
Ma – Talkin’ about Ma, yea! Talkin’ about the lady that raised me Talkin’ about Ma, yea!
Every once in a while, when Ma would get depressed She’d go to the closet and Pa’s guitar Sit herself down in the rockin’ chair Start hummin’ and strummin’… Ha ha, YEA! Looky here ya’ll: That was Ma’s way of lettin’ off steam In plain old english we could see that Ma was doin’ her thing Every once in a while she’d shout: waaAAAA – Let It All Hang Out!
Ma – Talkin’ about Ma, yea! Ma – Talkin’ about Ma, yea! Talkin’ about the Lady that raised me Talkin’ about Ma, yea!
Get up! Get out! Give it to me…give it to me… WaaAAAA…!