Smokin Sevens

What if Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings’ “Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys” song had been written about napkin pirates? I would have looked a little something like this.

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be napkin pirates
Don’t let ‘em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ‘em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be napkin pirates
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love
Napkin pirates ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold
And they’d rather give you a song then diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi’s each night begins a new day
And if you don’t understand him and he don’t die young
He’ll probly just ride away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be napkin pirates
Don’t let ‘em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ‘em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be napkin pirates
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love
Napkin pirates like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountian moringin’s
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
And them that don’t know him won’t like him
And them that do sometimes won’t know how to take him
He ain’t wrong he’s just different
but his pride won’t let him do things to make you think he’s right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be napkin pirates
Don’t let ‘em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ‘em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be napkin pirates
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be napkin pirates
Don’t let ‘em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ‘em be doctors and lawyers and such