I still remember the words and I even have the song on my iPod. Not many 30-somethings can say that. And I sing the song often enough that the Brat Child suggested I put "Pistol Packin Mama" on the back of my tye-dyed T-Shirt I made for Busch Gardens.
BC: You should put that Pistol Mama on your shirt.
ME: I don't think that would be such a good idea. Someone might think I have a gun.
BC: You should take one and you could shoot the bad guys!
ME: There aren't many bad guys at Busch Gardens.
BC: You could just put Big Mama on your shirt!
Just call me Big Mama.
Pistol Packin' Mama
Drinkin' beer in a cabaret And I was havin' fun!
Until one night she caught me right, And now I'm on the run
Until one night she caught me right, And now I'm on the run
Lay that pistol down Babe, Lay that pistol down,
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
She kicked out my windshield, She hit me over the head,
She cussed and cried, and said I lied, And I wished that I was dead.
She cussed and cried, and said I lied, And I wished that I was dead.
Lay that pistol down Babe, Lay that pistol down,
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
Drinkin' beer in a cabaret, And dancing with a blonde,
Until one night she shot out the light, Bang! That blonde was gone.
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
Drinkin' beer in a cabaret, And dancing with a blonde,
Until one night she shot out the light, Bang! That blonde was gone.
Lay that pistol down Babe, Lay that pistol down,
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
I'll see you every night Babe, I'll woo you every day,
I'll be your regular Daddy, If you'll put that gun away.
I'll be your regular Daddy, If you'll put that gun away.
Lay that pistol down Babe, Lay that pistol down,
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
Lay that pistol down Babe, Lay that pistol down,
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
Lay that pistol down Babe, Lay that pistol down,
Pistol Packin' Mama, Lay that pistol down.
Tex Ritter, John Ritter's dad, was popular in juke boxes of the 40's.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your recollections!
CBMom