Pistol Annies

Milkman

Pistol Annies

Interstate Gospel


If Mama would've loved the milkman
Maybe she wouldn't judge me
If she'd've had a ride in his white van
Up and down Baker Street
On a Monday with her hair down and her hand about to slide between his knees
But Mama never did love nothin' but Daddy and me

If Mama would've smoked her a cigarette
Maybe she wouldn't judge me
If she'd've done more than the dishes
Untied them apron strings
She'd be sittin' in her sundress on the back porch mixing whiskey and sweet tea
Mama never did think twice about feelin' this free

Mama never liked to pick wild flowers
Drinkin' on a Sunday was a sin
She might've made it past the water tower
If she'd've loved the milkman, mm

If I could be more like Mama
Maybe she wouldn't judge me
Sometimes I think Mama
Wants to be more like we
But it's too late 'cause her hair's gray
And the years have started showing on her cheeks
'Cause Mama never did have nothin' but Daddy and me

Mama never liked to pick wild flowers
Drinkin' on a Sunday was a sin
She might've made it past the water tower
If she'd've loved the milkman, mm

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