Music Makin’ Mama From Memphis

[Verse 1]
Listen to a story 'bout a gal I know
She's my music-making mama, I'm a hillbilly beau
She's sweeter than the music when she tickles the strings
Sweeter than the flowers down in New Orleans
She's my music-making mama from Memphis, Tennessee

[Verse 2]
She'll play a little rhythm, do the boogie upright
A Tennessee polka, maybe blues in the night
Everybody travels from near and far
To hear when she picks it on that old guitar
My music-making mama from Memphis, Tennessee

[Guitar Solo]

[Verse 3]
You can hear her in the evening when the sun sinks low
Singing and a-picking on that old banjo
You wanna jive when the words roll out of her mouth
Everybody's calling her the Queen of the South
She's my fiddle-playing mama from Memphis, Tennessee

[Fiddle Solo]

[Verse 4]
You gotta start dancing when she gets in the groove
Picks the big bass, fiddle or yodels the blues
Plays the downbeat, offbeat, any old beat
A breakdown, a hoedown and does it up neat
She's my bass-picking baby from Memphis, Tennessee

[Bass Solo]

[Verse 5]
You'll know when my baby is a-coming to town
All the jive-jumping jitterbugs, they gather around
They keep yelling to my queen, "Now, honey, let's go"
My baby starts picking and a-picking down low
My music-making mama from Memphis, Tennessee

[Guitar Solo]

[Verse 6]
She'll play a little rhythm, do the boogie upright
A Tennessee polka, maybe blues in the night
Everybody travels from near and far
To hear when she picks on that old guitar
My music-making mama from Memphis, Tennessee