Strap them kids in, give 'em a little bit of vodka In a Cherry Coke, we're going 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 of 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 Bypa** 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 running 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-a** 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 ride down town 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 We're gonna have 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 When they 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