Eddie Noack – Shotgun House (Guitar)

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I grew up in a shotgun house, just a stringy-haired millhand's kid

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No numbers on the front, they all look the same and you had to know where you lived

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So we'd count the houses 'til we came to ours and it always worked out right

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But somehow, my hard-working millhand pa lost count every Saturday night

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He'd holler Ma's name to the top of his lungs and raise up an awful fuss

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Ma'd tell us kids we'd better be still if we knew what was good for us

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So sometimes he'd find his way back home to his kids and his loving spouse

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But many was a night he slept under the porch of somebody else's shotgun house

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The years have passed and I've grown up, I've got a family all my own

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But things don't seem much different now, we call a shotgun house our home

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I work hard at the mill all week and I try to treat my family right

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But just like my pappy, there's too many bars on the way home Saturday night

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So I stand outside and I holler real loud, "Honey, won't you turn on the light?"

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But this sweet little woman won't guide me in and it looks like a rainy night

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If I walk in the wrong door, I might get killed and I ain't neither man nor mouse

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But when I wake up, I'm gonna paint me a sign on the front of my shotgun house