Written for a Country Music contest. |
My mama was a good ol' cook and set a table fine Butter beans, turnip greens and squash straight from the vine, Seasoned with a little streak o'lean. Now mama was a southern cook Her recipes weren't from a book But her dishes were supreme. Chorus We'd all set down and say our blessing Use our napkin to keep from messing and mama would pass the cornbread. That was all that was needed to complete this spread. I was raised on cornbread. Sundays we always had the same, Mama cooked fried chicken Fried okra, candied yams with lots of butter drippin' Mashed 'taters and gravy on the side. Hot biscuits were just a mebbe, Papa liked them with his gravy but was cornbread that I spied. Chorus We'd all set down and say our blessing Use our napkin to keep from messing and mama would pass the cornbread. That was all that was needed to complete this spread. I was raised on cornbread. Now mama is gone I have to make my own But I still love Hot buttered cornbread. Chorus We'd all set down and say our blessing Use our napkin to keep from messing and mama would pass the cornbread. That was all that was needed to complete this spread. I was raised on cornbread Oh I was raised on cornbread. |