Texas Love Song

I heard from a friend you'd been messing around
With a cute little thing I'd been dating uptown
Well I don't know if I like that idea much
Well you'd better stay clear I might start acting rough

You out of town guys sure think you're real keen
Think all of us boys here are homespun and green
But that's wrong my friend so get this through your head
We're tough and we're Texan with necks good and red

So it's Ki yi yippie yi yi
You long hairs are sure gonna die
Our American home was clean till you came
And kids still respected the president's name

And the eagle still flew in the sky
Hearts filled with national pride
Then you came along with your drug-crazy songs
Goddamit you're all gonna die

How dare you sit there and drink all our beer
Oh it's made for us workers who sweat spit and swear
The minds of our daughters are poisoned by you
With your communistic politics and them negro blues

Well I'm gonna quit talking and take action now
Run all of you fairies clean out of this town
Oh I'm dog tired of watching you mess up our lives
Spending the summertime naturally high

tumbleweed connection IIRC

:shrug:

Don't shoot me I'm Only the Piano Player:rofl:

I got both Don't Shoot Me and GBYBR on the same Christmas when I was a kid, so I tend to confuse the two.

and the Lounge
:hi:

(© the Austin Lounge Lizards)



Texas is a big state, North to South and East to West
Alaska doesn't really count, we're bigger than the rest
You can waltz across it, though, so grab your yellow rose
And sing another song of Texas; this is how it goes:

One more stupid song about Texas
For miles and miles it rambles on
Biggest egos, biggest hair, biggest liars anywhere
Let's sing another stupid Texas song (clap clap clap clap)

By God, we're so darn proud to be from Texas (Yahoo!)
Even of our pride we're proud, and we're proud of that pride, too
Our pride about our home state is the proudest pride indeed
And we're proud to be Americans, until we can secede

One more stupid song about Texas
You've heard it all before so sing along
Biggest belt buckles and boasts, love that big old Texas toast
Let's sing another stupid Texas song (clap clap clap clap)

Our accents are the drawliest, our howdies are the y'alliest
Our Lone Star flag's the waviest, our fried steak's the cream-graviest
Our rattlesnakes the coiliest, our beaches are the oiliest
Our politicians most corrupt, our stop signs most abrupt



Our guitars are the twangiest, our guns are the keblangiest
Our cows are the Long-horniest, our yodels the forlorniest
Our cookoffs are the chiliest, our Waylon is the Williest
Our sausage is the smokiest, our neighbors are the Okiest

From Texarkana to El Paso, Dalhart down to Orange
Every spot in Texas has got what you're looking for
Aren'cha glad that Texas put the stars up in the sky?
If heaven isn't Texas, pardner, I don't want to die

One more stupid song about Texas
just 'cause we're braggin' that don't mean it's wrong
Biggest heads and biggest hearts, biggest various body parts
Let's sing another stupid Texas song (clap clap clap clap)

Toss your hats into the air, we're obnoxious (we don't care!)
Let's sing another stupid Texas song (clap clap clap clap)

One more blusterin', bumptious, bald-faced, brazen, high-flown, high-toned, dander-up, panderin', pompous, puffed-up, snotty, swaggerin', stupid Texas song!

He was born in Oklahoma,
His wife's name's Betty Lou Thelma Liz
And he's not responsible for what he's doing
Cause his mother made him what he is.

And it's up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.
He's thirty-four and drinking in a honky tonk.
Just kicking hippies asses and raising hell.

Sure does like his Falstaff beer,
Likes to chase it down with that Wild Turkey liquor;
Drives a fifty-seven GMC pickup truck;
He's got a gun rack; "Goat ropers need love, too" sticker

And it's up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.
He's thirty-four and drinking in a honky tonk.
Just kicking hippies asses and raising hell.

Well,
M is for the mudflaps you give me for my pickup truck
O is for the Oil I put on my hair
T is for T-bird
H is for Haggard
E is for eggs, and
R is for REDNECK.

Up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.
He's thirty-four and drinking in a honky tonk.
Kicking hippies asses and raising hell.

He's up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.
He's thirty-four and drinking in a honky tonk.
Just kicking hippies asses and raising hell.

But I don't get drunk enough anymore to sing it with the proper reverence. x(

WELL, IT WAS ALL
THAT I COULD DO TO KEEP FROM CRYING’
SOMETIMES IT SEEMED SO USELESS TO REMAIN
BUT YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME DARLIN’, DARLIN'
YOU NEVER EVEN CALL ME BY MY NAME

YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME WAYLON JENNINGS
AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME CHARLIE PRIDE
AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME MERLE HAGGARD/ANYMORE
EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE ON MY FIGHTING’ SIDE

CHORUS:
AND I’LL HANG AROUND AS LONG AS YOU WILL LET ME
AND I NEVER MINDED STANDING’ IN THE RAIN
BUT YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME DARLIN’, DARLIN’
YOU NEVER EVEN CALLED ME BY MY NAME

WELL, I’VE HEARD MY NAME
A FEW TIMES IN YOUR PHONE BOOK (Hello, Hello)
AND I’VE SEEN IT ON SIGNS WHERE I’VE PLAYED
BUT THE ONLY TIME I KNOW
I’LL HEAR "DAVID ALLAN COE"
IS WHEN JESUS HAS HIS FINAL JUDGMENT DAY

REPEAT CHORUS

RECITATION:
WELL, A FRIEND OF MINE NAMED STEVE GOODMAN WROTE THAT SONG
AND HE TOLD ME IT WAS THE PERFECT COUNTRY & WESTERN SONG
I WROTE HIM BACK A LETTER AND I TOLD HIM IT WAS NOT THE PERFECT COUNTRY & WESTERN SONG BECAUSE HE HADN’T SAID ANYTHING AT ALL ABOUT MAMA,
OR TRAINS,
OR TRUCKS,
OR PRISON,
OR GETTING’ DRUNK
WELL HE SAT DOWN AND WROTE ANOTHER VERSE TO THE SONG
AND HE SENT IT TO ME,
AND AFTER READING IT,
I REALIZED THAT MY FRIEND HAD WRITTEN THE PERFECT
COUNTRY & WESTERN SONG
AND I FELT OBLIGED TO INCLUDE IT ON THIS ALBUM
THE LAST VERSE GOES LIKE THIS HERE:

WELL, I WAS DRUNK THE DAY MY MOM GOT OUT OF PRISON
AND I WENT TO PICK HER UP IN THE RAIN
BUT BEFORE I COULD GET TO THE STATION IN MY PICKUP TRUCK
SHE GOT RUN NED OVER BY A DAMNED OLD TRAIN

CHORUS:
AND I’LL HANG AROUND AS LONG AS YOU WILL LET ME
AND I NEVER MINDED STANDING’ IN THE RAIN
NO, A’ YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME DARLIN’, DARLIN’
YOU NEVER EVEN CALL ME
WELL I WONDER WHY YOU DON’T CALL ME
WHY DON’T YOU EVER CALL ME BY MY NAME