Sorry, y'all. My mamaw called me. I'll be right back.Hello?Hey.All right.It was always hotter than the Greeks.She used to fry that chicken.Smelled like Marlboro Reds and all the butter from her biscuits.And that Lincoln in the driveway circa 1982Was on the shiny side of rusty and on the pearly side of blueCousin and complainin' weren't allowed in Mamaw's houseIf every nightstand had a Bible, every front porch had a swingIf every backyard had a garden and every front door had a screenWell, maybe this crazy world's straightened up and so on downIf every town had a Mamaw's houseShe'd ask if I was hungry every thirty secondsAnd say things like hellfire, tarnation, and I reckonsIt's where I spend my summersShe put me to workShelling peas and shucking cornUntil my fingers hurtNo tellin' who I'd have been withoutMamaw's houseIf every nightstand had a Bible, every front porch had a swingIf every backyard had a garden and every front door had a screenYeah, maybe this crazy world's straightened up and so on downIf every town had a Mamaw's houseYeah, and if they did when I punch the clock tonightI know right where I'd beI'd walk in and get a bigger load ofAnd a bigger glass of teaIf every nightstand had a Bible, every front porch had a swingIf every backyard had a garden and every front door had a screenYeah, maybe this crazy world will straighten up and slow on downIf every town had a memo's houseYeah, maybe this crazy world will straighten up and slow on downIf every town had a memo's houseIf every town had a memo's house