Mama's House - Mark Chesnutt

There’s a bottle of whiskey up above the stove

It’s been there thirty years I know

Only used for coughs and colds at mama’s house

In the air there’s a combination

Of home baked bread and pan fried bacon

No, there’s no mistaking mama’s house

It seems smaller than the day I left

It don’t matter how big I get

I still wipe my feet and watch my mouth

At mama’s house

Thing’s round here still looks the same

Like a picture in a frame

The light bill’s still in daddy’s name at mama’s house

You won’t find one speck of dust

One dirty spoon, or coffee cup

And that ol' dog will still eat you up at mama’s house

It seems smaller than the day I left

It don’t matter how big I get

I still wipe my feet and watch my mouth

At mama’s house

That driveway’s still paved with white rocks

Though her name ain’t on the mailbox

Come what may there won’t ever be any doubt

That’s mama’s house

It seems smaller than the day I left

It don’t matter how big I get

I still wipe my feet and watch my mouth

She’s always so glad to see me Her little boy will always be me

I think I’ll spent this out

And head on down to mama’s house