Mama’s Ma
Kyle Gass Band
Wanna tell you a story about a woman I know
She got real fancy jewelry, faux fur on her clothes
She drives a red PT Cruiser with flames on the side
She goes out for the evening but her curfew is nine
When you're looking for love
She's the first place to go
When I need someone to listen
She's waiting by her flip phone
She got curlers in her hair
And she always takes my calls
An unconditional love
She's my Mama's Ma
Wanna tell you a story from 1921
Pre-Great Depression, post-World War I
She crossed the Atlantic on a half-rotten log
And she made it to Ellis throught the thick New York fog
When you're looking for love
She's the first place to go
When I need someone to listen
Or I need a place to go
She got curlers in her hair
And she always took my calls
An unconditional love
She's my Mama's Mama's Ma
Gonna tell you a story from days long ago
The girl could churn butter and knew how to use a hoe
She bore fifteen children in case some of them died
Lost her to dysentery at the old age of thirty-five
When you're looking for love
She was the first place to go
When I need someone to listen
Or a place to call my home
She got curlers in her hair
And she always took my calls
An unconditional love
She's my Mama's Mama's Mama's Mama's Mama's Mama's Mama's Mama's Mama's Mama's Ma
Mama's Mama's Mama's Ma
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