You ever meet someone who’s got that wild streak, the kind that makes them bolt when things get heavy? That’s “Runaway Mama” for you—a song about a woman who’s all fire and freedom, someone you can’t pin down no matter how hard you try. I picture her with dust on her boots, hair whipping in the wind, tearing down some backroad like she’s chasing a horizon that never gets closer. It’s not just a story, though—it’s a feeling. That ache when you love someone who’s already halfway out the door, mixed with this grudging awe at how they just… go.
This song’s got a heartbeat, you know? I hear it starting soft—maybe a lone guitar picking out a melody that feels like longing—then building into something raw, like a howl you can’t hold back. She’s not running from something bad, necessarily. Maybe it’s just who she is—restless, untamed, the kind of spirit that makes you wonder if you’re the fool for staying put. I’d weave in lyrics about the little things she leaves behind—a coffee cup still warm, a note scratched on a napkin—‘cause those are the hooks that gut you when she’s gone.
What gets me is how universal it feels. Haven’t we all known a runaway? Or maybe we’ve been one ourselves, itching to ditch the weight of expectations. That’s where the magic lives in “Runaway Mama”—it’s not just her song, it’s ours too. It’s got this gritty, bittersweet vibe that sticks with you, like a late-night talk you can’t shake off. You hear it and think, “Yeah, I get her. I get why she runs.” And maybe you even start tapping your foot, wondering where you’d go if you cut loose
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Lyrics
She’s my run away mama always chasing other men
She’s my run away mama she’s somewhere and gone again.
If you see this kind of lady, kind of tall, kind of slim.
She’s my runaway mama.
Call the law and turn her in she’s got lots of pretty things that a man cannot ignore.
And she’s standing out in a bar room
When she walks out on the floor.
If you se this kind of woman thumbling a ride and showing skin.
She’s my runaway mama.
Call the law and turn her in.
If you see a woman flirting and she’s hurting a bunch of men.
She’s my runaway mama.
Call the law and turn her in.
If you see her somewhere dancing on a table ina a bar.
Go and call the chief of police and try to tell ’em where you are.
She’s my runaway mama, chasing other men.
She’s my runaway mama, she’s somewhere and gone again.
If you see this kind of lady thumbing a ride and showing skin.
She’s my runaway mama.
Call the law and turn her in.
She’s my runaway mama.