Mama raised me 
I wrote this song about my Mama raing me up.

Dusty old six-string, a memory I hold

Mama’s gentle hands, a story to be told

She’d hum a sweet melody while I was just a boy

In a little cowboy town, full of simple joy

She’d say, “Son, your voice is a gift from up above

Go and sing your heart out, fill the world with love”

But the world I saw was a saddle and a horse

And a dusty old bar where I’d find my true course