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Song Parodies -> "Mamas, Don't Let Your Mailmen Grow Up to be Watchdogs"
Original Song Title:
"Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys"
Original Performer:
Waylon & Willie
Parody Song Title:
"Mamas, Don't Let Your Mailmen Grow Up to be Watchdogs"
Parody Written by:
Royce Miller
The Lyrics
Mailmen are easy to love cause they bring us the mail
Sometimes it's news from Aunt Judy or old Uncle Dale
I like those pants with the dark blue stripes down the side
If he has no mail for you this afternoon
Away down the street he will ride
Mamas, don't let your mailmen grow up to be watchdogs
Don't let em snoop round while their driving their trucks
Let em just drop off those letters and such
Mamas, don't let your mailmen grow up to be watchdogs
Cause they'll sniff round our homes and we won't be alone
If Big Brother's eye is on us
Mailmen like clear sunny days and no dogs a'barkin
Tree-lined streets and folks who give em a smile
Them that don't know him must go and talk to him
He's a good person, in truth
He was never meant to gather information
He wasn't meant to be a super-sleuth
Mamas, don't let your mailmen grow up to be watchdogs
Don't let em look through their binoculars and such
The mailbox should be the only thing that they touch
Mamas, don't let your mailmen grow up to be watchdogs
Cause they'll sniff round our homes and we won't be alone
If Big Brother's eye is on us
Sometimes it's news from Aunt Judy or old Uncle Dale
I like those pants with the dark blue stripes down the side
If he has no mail for you this afternoon
Away down the street he will ride
Mamas, don't let your mailmen grow up to be watchdogs
Don't let em snoop round while their driving their trucks
Let em just drop off those letters and such
Mamas, don't let your mailmen grow up to be watchdogs
Cause they'll sniff round our homes and we won't be alone
If Big Brother's eye is on us
Mailmen like clear sunny days and no dogs a'barkin
Tree-lined streets and folks who give em a smile
Them that don't know him must go and talk to him
He's a good person, in truth
He was never meant to gather information
He wasn't meant to be a super-sleuth
Mamas, don't let your mailmen grow up to be watchdogs
Don't let em look through their binoculars and such
The mailbox should be the only thing that they touch
Mamas, don't let your mailmen grow up to be watchdogs
Cause they'll sniff round our homes and we won't be alone
If Big Brother's eye is on us
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