(Sorry, y'all, my mamaw called me, I'll, I'll be right back, hello?)
(Whatcha doin' Morgan?)
(Hey, I'm just, I'm writing on-)

It was always hotter than the grease she used to fry that chicken
Smelled like Marlboro Reds and all the butter from her biscuits
And that Lincoln in the driveway, circa 1982
Was on the shiny side of rusty and on the paler side of blue
'Cussin and complainin' weren't allowed in Mamaw's house

If every nightstand had a Bible, every front porch had a swing
If every backyard had a garden, every front door had a screen
Well, maybe this crazy world would straighten up and slow on down
If every town had a Mamaw's house

She'd ask if I was hungry every thirty seconds
And say things like "hellfire," "tarnation" and "I reckon's"
It's where I spent my summers and she put me to work
Shellin' peas and shuckin' corn until my fingers hurt
No tellin' who I'da been without Mamaw's house

If every nightstand had a Bible, every front porch had a swing
If every backyard had a garden, every front door had a screen
Yeah, maybe this crazy world would straighten up and slow on down
If every town had a Mamaw's house

Yeah, and if they did, when I punch the clock
Tonight, I know right where I'd be
I'd walk in and get a big ol' hug
And a bigger glass of tea

If every nightstand had a Bible, every front porch had a swing
If every backyard had a garden, every front door had a screen
Yeah, maybe this crazy world would straighten up and slow on down
If every town had a Mamaw's house
Yeah, maybe this crazy world would straighten up and slow on down
If every town had a mamaw's house Writer/s: Matthew Peters Dragstrem, Morgan Cole Wallen, Richard Chase McGill, Thomas Rhett Jr. Akins
Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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