Beans, Boots, and Broken Wind

Met my girl at the county fair

Shared a funnel cake, then I said a prayer

‘Cause my belly started speakin’ in a brand new tongue

And the warning signs hit like a starting gun

I’m just a small-town man with a big ol’ problem

Anywhere I go, my jeans can’t stop ‘em

If you smell trouble, it might be me startin’

Blame my mama’s cookin’ for my honky-tonk fartin’

(Hell yeah)

Blame my mama’s cookin’ for my honky-tonk fartin’

Preacher bowed his head on Sunday morn

I bowed mine too, then the trumpet horn

Came right out the back of the wooden pew

Even Jesus laughed, what else could He do?

I’m just a small-town man with a big ol’ problem

Anywhere I go, my jeans can’t stop ‘em

If you smell trouble, it might be me startin’

Blame my mama’s cookin’ for my honky-tonk fartin’

(Oh Lord)

Blame my mama’s cookin’ for my honky-tonk fartin’

Granddad said, “Boy, there’s two kinds of gas

One runs your truck, one clears the class”

So when life stinks and you’re feelin’ low

Just crack a grin and let it go (let it go!)

I’m just a small-town man with a big ol’ problem

Anywhere I go, my jeans can’t stop ‘em

If you smell trouble, it might be me startin’

Blame my mama’s cookin’ for my honky-tonk fartin’

(One more time!)

Blame my mama’s cookin’ for my honky-tonk fartin’