Lyrics Choctaw Bingo - Ray Wylie Hubbard

Choctaw Bingo

Strap them kids in, give 'em a little bit of vodka
In a Cherry Coke, we’re goin' to Oklahoma
To the family reunion for the first time in years
It’s up at Uncle Slayton’s 'cause he’s getting on in years
You know he no longer travels, but he’s still pretty spry
He’s not much on talking, he’s just too mean to die
And they’ll be comin' down from Kansas and from west Arkansas
It’ll be one great big ol' party like you never saw
Uncle Slayton’s got his Texan pride
Back in the thickets with his Asian bride
He’s got an Airstream trailer and a Holstein cow
He still makes whiskey 'cause he still knows how
He plays that Choctaw bingo every Friday night
You know he had to leave Texas, but he won’t say why
He owns a quarter section up by Lake Eufala
Caught a great big ol' blue cat on a driftin' jug line
Sells his hardwood timber to the chipping mill
Cooks that crystal meth because the 'shine don’t sell
He cooks that crystal meth because the 'shine don’t sell
You know he likes that money, he don’t mind the smell
My cousin Roscoe, Slayton’s oldest boy
From his second marriage up in Illinois
He’s raised in East St. Louis by his mama’s people
Where they do things different thought he’d just come on down
He was going to Dallas, Texas, in a semi-truck
Called from that big McDonald’s, you know the one that’s built up
On that great big ol' bridge across the Will Rogers Turnpike
Took the Big Cabin exit, stopped and bought a carton o' cigarettes
At that Indian smoke shop with the big neon smoke rings
In the Cherokee Nation hit Muskogee late that night
Somebody ran a stoplight at the Shawnee Bypass
Roscoe tried to miss 'em, but he didn’t quite
Bob and Mae come up from some little town
Way down by Lake Texoma where he coaches football
They were 2-A champions now for two years runnin'
But he says they won’t be this year, no, they won’t be this year
And he stopped off in Tushka at that Pop’s Knife and Gun place
Bought a SKS rifle and a couple full cases
Of that steel-core ammo with the Berdan primers
From some East bloc nation that no longer needs 'em
And a Desert Eagle, that’s one great big ol' pistol
I mean, 50-caliber made by bad-ass Hebrews
And some surplus tracers for that old B-A-R of Slayton’s
Soon’s it gets dark, we’re gonna have us a time
We’re gonna have us a time
Ruth Ann and Lynn come down from Baxter Springs
And that’s one hell-raisin' town way up in southeastern Kansas
Got a biker bar next to the lingerie store
That’s got the Rolling Stones lips up there in bright pink neon
And they’re right downtown where everyone can see 'em
And they burn all night
You know they burn all night
You know they burn all night
Ruth Ann and Lynn, they wear them cut-off britches
And them skinny little halters
And they’re second cousins to me
Man, I don’t care, I want to get between 'em
With a great big ol' hard-on like a old Bois d’Arc fence post
You could hang a pipe rail gate from
Do some sister twisters 'til the cows come home
And we’ll be havin' us a time
Uh-huh
Uncle Slayton’s got his Texan pride
Back in the thickets with his Asian bride
He’s cut that corner pasture into acre lots
He sells 'em owner-financed strictly to them
That’s got no kind of credit cause he knows they’re slackers
And they’ll miss that payment, then he takes it back
He plays that Choctaw bingo every Friday night
He drinks his Johnny Walker at that Club 69
We’re gonna strap them kids in
Give 'em a little bit o' Benadryl
And a Cherry Coke, we’re goin' to Oklahoma
Gonna have us a time
Gonna have us a time