Lyrics

Strap them kids in Give 'em a little bit of vodka In a Cherry Coke We're goin' to Oklahoma To the family reunion For the first time in years Its up at Uncle Slaton's 'Cause he's gettin on in years You know, he no longer travels But he's still pretty spry He's not much on talkin' He's just too mean to die And they'll be comin' down from Kansas and from West Arkansas It'll be one great big ol' party like you never saw Uncle Slaton's got his Texan pride Back in the thickets with his Asian bride He's got an Airstream trailer and a Holstein cow Still makes whiskey 'cause he still knows how He plays that Choctaw Bingo every Friday night You know he had to leave Texas, but he won't say why He owns a quarter section up by Lake Eufala Caught a great big ol' bluecat on a driftin' jugline Sells his hardwood timber to the chippin' mill Cooks that crystal meth because the shine don't sell He cooks that crystal meth because the shine don't sell You know he likes that money; he don't mind the smell My cousin Roscoe, Slaton's oldest boy From his second marriage up in Illinois He's raised in East St. Louis by his Mama's people where they do things different Thought he'd just come on down He's goin' to Dallas Texas in a semi truck Called from that big McDonald's You know that one that's built up on that Great big old bridge across the Will Rogers Turnpike Took the Big Cabin exit Stopped and bought a carton of cigarettes At that Indian smoke shop with the big neon smoke rings In the Cherokee Nation Hit Muskogee late that night Somebody ran the stoplight at the Shawnee Bypass Roscoe tried to miss him but he didn't quite Bob and May come up from Some little town way down by Lake Texoma where he coaches football They were 2-A champions now for two years running But he says they won't be this year No, they won't be this year And he stopped off in Tushka at that pop knife and gun place Bought a SKS rifle and a couple full cases of that steel-core ammo With the Berdan primers from some East Bloc nation That no longer needs 'em And a Desert Eagle that's one great big ol' pistol I mean, fifty-caliber made by badass Hebrews And some surplus tracers for that old BAR of Slaton's Soon as it gets dark We're gonna have us a time We're gonna have us a time Ruth-Anne and Lynn come down from Baxter Springs And that's one hell-raisin' town way up in southeastern Kansas Got a biker bar next to the lingerie store That's got the Rolling Stones lips up there in Bright pink neon And they're right downtown where everyone can see 'em And they burn all night You know they burn all night You know they burn all night Ruthann and Lynn they wear them Cutoff britches And them skinny little halters And they're second cousins to me Man, I don't care, I wanna Get between 'em with a Great big ol' hard-on like a old Bois d'Arc fence post You could hang a pipe rail gate from Do some sister twisters 'til the cows come home And we'll be havin' us a time Uh-huh Uncle Slaton's got his Texan pride Back in the thickets with his Asian bride He's cut that corner pasture into acre lots He sells 'em owner-financed strictly to them That's got no kind of credit 'Cause he knows they're slackers And they'll miss that payment Then he takes it back He plays that Choctaw Bingo Every Friday night He drinks his Johnny Walker At that Club 69 We're gonna strap them kids in Give 'em a little bit of Benadryl In a Cherry Coke We're goin' to Oklahoma Gonna have us a time Gonna have us a time
Writer(s): James Mc Murtry Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out