Packrat Song - Apologies to Waylon
JL
>Packrats ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold.
They'd rather hunt for old tools I’m told.
Screws, screwdrivers, and old rusty tools
And each fleamarket begins a new day.
If you won't understand him, an' he won't die young,
He'll prob'ly just ride away.
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be packrats.
Don't let 'em pick up old tools or drive them old trucks.
Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be packrats.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Searching for that old Stanley plane.
Packrats like rust, old tool rooms and foggy Saturday mornings,
Rusty old saws, and files and saw sets and even a brace or two.
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.
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be packrats.
Don't let 'em pick up old tools or drive them old trucks.
Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be packrats.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Searching for that old Stanley plane.
