(Sorry, y'all, my mamaw called me, I'll, I'll be right back, hello?)
+
(Whatcha doin' Morgan?)
+
(Hey, I'm just, I'm writing on-)
+
It was always hotter than the grease she used to fry that chicken
+
Smelled like Marlboro Reds and all the butter from her biscuits
+
And that Lincoln in the driveway, circa 1982
+
Was on the shiny side of rusty and on the paler side of blue
+
'Cussin and complainin' weren't allowed in Mamaw's house
+
If every nightstand had a Bible, every front porch had a swing
+
If every backyard had a garden, every front door had a screen
+
Well, maybe this crazy world would straighten up and slow on down
+
If every town had a Mamaw's house
+
She'd ask if I was hungry every thirty seconds
+
And say things like "hellfire," "tarnation" and "I reckon's"
+
It's where I spent my summers and she put me to work
+
Shellin' peas and shuckin' corn until my fingers hurt
+
No tellin' who I'da been without Mamaw's house
+
If every nightstand had a Bible, every front porch had a swing
+
If every backyard had a garden, every front door had a screen
+
Yeah, maybe this crazy world would straighten up and slow on down
+
If every town had a Mamaw's house
+
Yeah, and if they did, when I punch the clock
+
Tonight, I know right where I'd be
+
I'd walk in and get a big ol' hug
+
And a bigger glass of tea
+
If every nightstand had a Bible, every front porch had a swing
+
If every backyard had a garden, every front door had a screen
+
Yeah, maybe this crazy world would straighten up and slow on down
+
If every town had a Mamaw's house
+
Yeah, maybe this crazy world would straighten up and slow on down
+
If every town had a mamaw's house
+
