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Pistol Packin' Mama

de Gene Vincent

Lay that pistol down, Babe.
Lay that pistol down.
Pistol packin mama
Lay that pistol down.

Oh, drinkin beer in a cabaret
Was I havin fun!
Until one night she caught me right
And now I'm on the run.

Oh, lay that pistol down, Babe.
Lay that pistol down.
Pistol packin mama
Lay that pistol down.

Oh, lay that pistol down, Babe.
Lay that pistol down.
Pistol packin mama
Lay that thing down before it goes off and hurts somebody!

Oh, she kicked out my windshield
And she hit me over the head.
She cussed and cried and said I lied
And she wished that I was dead.

Oh, 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

Pappy made a batch of corn
The revenuers came.
The draugh was slow
So now they know
You can't do that to Mame.

Lay that pistol down, Babe.
Lay that pistol down.
Pistol packin mama
Lay that pistol down

Oh, singing songs in a cabaret
Was I havin fun!
Until one night it didn't seem right
And now I'm on the run.

Oh, lay that pistol down, Babe.
Lay that pistol down.
Pistol packin mama
Lay that pistol down.

Oh, pistol packin mama
Lay that pistol down.

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