SONGS OF FISHING, SHEEP AND GUNS IN MONTANA
© Greg Keeler 1987

I Call My Mama Papa

Well, I was born on the Atchafalaya Bayou
Down near New Orleans in a tar paper shack.
My mama and my papa was fightin' all the time.
You might say their marriage was on the wrong track.

My papa wore a dress and put on make-up every morning.
My mom was in the swamps catchin' everything she could.
My papa put on perfume and went to the beauty parlor.
My mama wrestled gators, set the lines and cut wood.

But then they went to New Orleans and got sex change operations.
Now they're the happiest folks you ever saw.
Yes, my mama is my papa and my papa is my mama.
Said I call my mama Papa and I call my papa Ma.

But then one day things took a turn for the worse.
I caught Mad Jack Creole on the porch with my ma.
What makes things worse is that it wasn't really mama,
'Cause I call my mama papa and I call my papa ma.

Well, Papa got drunk and he picked up a gun,
But what I mean is mama 'cause I call my mama Pa.
Now my Papa's on the run lookin' out for the law,
But it isn't really Papa cause I call my papa ma.

Maybe some day we'll all be back on the bayou,
Away from trouble and away from the law.
And I'll wake up in the morning and I'll sit in bed and wonder,
Is mom on top of papa, or is pop on top of ma.