On Sunday after church there'd always be a picnic There'd be kinfolks callin' until dawn Me I'd play the guitar and my Uncle Merle would sing And grandpa he'd play that fiddle all night long Now the women folk they would work out in the kitchen You could smell that food for miles and miles around Paw he was prayin' my brother Jack would bring him down some moonshine Just so's that he could warsh those viddle down As soon as all the kids got tired of playin' horseshoes Mama she'd call me over to her side You know she'd say I'd like to take some pictures You could see her face light up with pride And then she'd bring out that worn out family album Its faded pictures some with corners torn She'd laugh and poin and tell me funny stories And look she'd say why that's the day that you were born And I'd sit and reminisce each picture with her And I'd listen to her laughter and her sighs But underneath I knew how much I'd hurt her For I'd put teardrops in my mama's eyes In my mama's eyes I've never done a wrong thing I was still a baby in my mama's eyes That old family album she'll keep on her night stand Right next to the Bible until the day she dies Through all those years in prison she stuck by me And she came to visit anytime she could Well I remember at my trial when she testified she loved me And she told the judge I'd always been so good Then later through the fame she watched me blossom From just a local country singer to a great big star She listened to all my records for the hidden meanings And she came to hear me sing in all those dim lit bars And she read all the things they wrote about me But she knew deep in her heart that it was lies No she don't hide her head in shame when someone says my name You'll find no teardrops in my mama's eyes In my mama's eyes... Right next to the Bible until the day she dies