Mama once the pride of Alabama
She wants a place - she needs a place to stay
Maybe bed and board for a day or three
Hey, she keeps herself to herself no sweat
she won’t fight; she won’t get high as a kite
she won’t go down to Times Square late at night.
She’ll be at Pennsylvania station
On the train from the penitentiary
So, look out for Alabama Mama
Meet her there if you’ve got a room to spare.
She’ll be up with the lark, home before dark.
She’ll hang out and jog around Central Park
Won’t be under your feet or in your way…
The very first day she got out of jail
She went straight down to Times Square late at night.
Met phoney cronies got high as a kite
Tried to walk, talk New York, Al-a-bam-a!
Somebody hit her - somebody bit her
She got in a fight, what a fuss, a farce.
Yeah, but Alabama Mama’s alright!