Mama’s Ma

Kyle Gass Band

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    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

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    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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