Buddy Wakefield - Guitar Repairwoman lyrics

My mother told me, "If you ever become a rock star, don't smash the guitar. There are too many poor kids out there who have nothing And they see that sh**, when all they want to do is play that thing. Boy, you better let 'em play." Okay, if she ever starts in on one of these lectures Your best bet is to pull up a chair, chief Because Mama doesn't deal in the abridged version. She worries about me so much some days It's like watching windshield wipers On high speed during a light sprinkle And I gotta tell her, "Mom, you're making me nervous." She was born to be laid back, I swear But some of us were brought up in households Where carefree is a stick of gum And the only option for getting out Is to walk faster The woman can RUN In high heels Backwards While double checking my homework Bursting my bubble Rolling enough coins to make sure I have lunch money And preparing for a meeting at my school On her only day off So she can tell Miss Gauss, the music teacher, "If you ever touch my boy again, big lady, I'll bounce a hammer off your skull." I remember doing these things swiftly and with a smile In discounted thrift store business suits That she wore just bright and distinguished enough To cover up 30 years of highway scars trucking through her spine. Some accidents you don't' need to see, rubber necker. Keep moving, cuz she made it. She's alive and she's famous. We can stretch Van Gogh paintings from Seattle, WA to Binghamton, NY And you still won't won't find the brilliant brush strokes It takes to be a single mother sacrificing the best part of her dreams To raise a baby boy who, on most days, she probably wants to strangle. We disagree a lot. For instance, mom still thinks it's okay to carry on a conversation at 7 AM Where as I think... "I'm sorry, I don't think it's 7 in the morning." But we both agree that love makes no mistakes, So, at night time when she's winding down And I'm still writing books about how to get comfortable in the skin she gave me. I see rock stars on stages smashing guitars And it's then when I want to find 'em a comfortable chair Get 'em a snack and introduce them today Like, "This is my mother, Tresa B. Olson Runner of the tight shift Taker of the temperature Leaver of the light on Lover of the underdog Mover of the mountain Winner of the good life Keeper of the hope chest Guitar repair woman And I am her son, Buddy Wakefield I play a tricked-out electric pen Thanks to the makers of music and metaphor But I do my best to keep the words in check. And I use a padded microphone so I don't hurt you. Because, sometimes, I smash things. And I don't want to let her down.