8) Kill, Murder 'n' Mame

My mama, she wasn't a bad woman,
My mama, she wasn't a mean woman,
My mama, she wasn't an evil woman, just
Intolerant of the forces of nature
That put one foot in front of the other 'fore we're
Ready tuh move.

Spent all uh her time pressed for time, just
Lickin' her wounds, 'n' tryin' tuh
Ease her mind, 'n'
It ain't bad, 'n'
It ain't mean, but a little
Evil in the way that she'd
Relinquish her hand to it,
Now, my ears are ringin',
I'm seein' stars, 'n'
She wanna run away...

She gets a mean ol' rush, 'n' the
Paint start in tuh peelin',
At the top of her lungs 'n'
Starin' at the cielin', screamin,
"¡Kill, Murder 'n' Mame!"

¿Now, do ya love me?
¿Do ya hate me?
Here I am, the way ya
Made me,
All sideways and nasty, like a
Rash of slide-fire; like a
Blind dog with rabies,
Like a live, broken wire, 'n' I wanna,

Kill, Murder 'n' Mame

Now Jimmy had a steady girl, but
That wasn't enough, 'cuz that
Jimmy was a charmer, oh, 'n'
He thought he was tough.
He scattered all his belly-warmers
All over town, while his
Steady laid awake at night 'n'
Cried the ceiling down.
She was tired uh bein' sweet on him,
Tired uh bein' tame, she got
Tired uh bein' another pulse,
Another bitch, another dame.
A piece of paper in his pocket held
A much familiar name, with a
Much familiar number, her
Best friend's was the same.

There's only one picture she can
Put in that frame,
So who are you to stop her, 'n'
Who is she tuh blame, if she wanna

Kill, Murder 'n' Mame

Nah, you better run, Jimmy, 'n'
You better heed,
'Cuz yer gonna weep, Jimmy, ah,
You're gonna bleed.

She pawned yer Telecaster 'n' yer
Smith-Corona, too;
She bought herself a gun, 'n' now she's
Gunnin' after you.
She called off work three weeks ago, she's
Nowhere to be found,
'N' ya know Hell hath no fury than a
Woman dogged around.

Meanwhile, as you
Sweat 'n' moan
Inside some
Teenage Megaphone, she's screamin'

Kill, Murder 'n' Mame

¿What could he have done?
¿Oh, what could he have said
To leave him clingin' tuh life in
Another woman's bed?
His Steady's got an alibi, or
So she said, and
Jimmy's got a .44 caliber
Hole in his head.

¿What could he have done?
¿What could poor Jimmy have said
To leave his lifeless body in
My woman's bed?
Now, I'm on the run,
'N' Poor Jimmy's dead,
They matched the caliber of my guitar
To the hole in his head.

©2008, 2010 Andy Klosenski

Title originally appeared on ¡The Jugband Cannibala Court a Bride! [RPM Challenge 2008; eventually to be re-released as ¡The Jugband Cannibala TAKE a Bride! with added material].

[ http://honkygabacho.bandcamp.com/album/the-jugband-cannibala-take-a-bride ]