Hey, Ma!

There's a most perplexin' question 'Causin' boys so much dismay, Just what becomes of everything Their Ma's have put away.

Remember gang, when we was kids, We couldn't find a thing? And how our marbles disappeared, As well as top and string?

Our ketchin' glove was missin' And so was ball and bat; The fish hooks simply wasn't there, Nor was our cowboy hat.

"Hey, Ma!" we'd holler, "Where's my knife? I had it only yesterday!" And Ma would say she didn't know, She'd put the thing away.

That's the way it always was, Mornin', noon, an' night; You couldn't keep a doggoned thing, It just skipped out of sight.

We'd rummage 'round about the house, And raise an awful howl; But all that Ma could ever find Was just the soap an' towel.

And though we've grown to man's estate, It's still the same today; A blood-hound couldn't find his nose When Ma puts things away.