Choctaw Bingo - Ray Wylie Hubbard

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