Lyricist : Thomas Rhett/Morgan Wallen/Matt Dragstrem/Chase McGill

Composer : Thomas Rhett/Morgan Wallen/Matt Dragstrem/Chase McGill

Sorry, y'all, my mamaw called me, I'll, I'll be right back, hello?

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