Mother of trouble called

Said he was doing fine

Right up to the time of lineup

Somebody picked him clean

Out of the crowd

Recognized his shirt and shoes

For crying out loud

He admitted that he did it

In fact he seemed proud

Released into my custody

What do I do with him now?

Tell me Mrs. Trouble

Do you keep a gun in the house

Secure and locked

And safe from your children

In its own metal box

Combination known

To you and you alone?

The mother of trouble sees

A baby through her precinct eyes

The flickering fluorescents sing

A song sung they’ve sung a million times

She recalls a pluck the wings

Off of flies kind of thing

Thought she had a little scientist,

No one recognized this till he was

Too far gone, way too strong

And way too big for reason

(chorus)

The mother of trouble called saying

“He looks so quiet like

A peaceful trip back in time

Like when he was a baby sleeping.”

She made him a sandwich

Gave him a good night kiss

Now there’s cordite on her hands

And a hole in his chest

The size of my fist

Officer said “This looks open and shut

She got the right to stay silent

Then came the click of the cuffs”

(chorus)

VANCE - vocals, acoustic guitars, percussion, xylophone

CRAIG AKIN - upright bass

MARCO GIOVINO - drums

DENNIS MONTGOMERY III - Hammond B2

JOEY LANDRETH - wah-wah & electric slide guitars

AMY MALKOFF - backing vocals

JOEY DALTON - backing vocals