If you walk right in off the street, you can take the load right off your feet.Mama'll bring a menu to your seat, but the bill's a bet, I'll be short and sweet.Mama won't find no age to thank, Mama never ever could've cooked that way.She owns she's regime, no new-found cuisine.She's cookin' gumbo, a mighty bad gumbo.It's the only way she can go, down at the Club Red Gumbo.Heads and shells stay in the stock.She stirs the food and really rocks.One gallon shellfish stock or water, man, this gumbo is made to order.Two toasts of garlic, finely chopped.Man, this party just can't be stopped.Mama's pot's a-boilin', the band's startin' to blow.Canopies flyin' like a fast domino.She cookin' gumbo, a mighty rag gumbo.It's the only way she can go, down at the Club Red Gumbo.Oh no, no cascado, no corn on blue.This ain't the place to go, lookin' for a feast too.But if you like a tin of shrimp and rice,If you think you can stand the spice,She cookin' gumbo, a mighty rag gumbo.Now when people come from miles around,They dig what Mama's puttin' down.Everybody knows her name, she in the Seafood Hall of Fame.I gotta get that recipe, if it means a step for me.Get my supply for the sneak a look, in the Mama's book.She cookin' gumbo, a mighty rag gumbo.It's the only way she can go, down at the Club Red Gumbo.She cookin' gumbo, a mighty rag gumbo.It's the only way she can go, down at the Club Red Gumbo.www.larryweaver.com