There's a wedding in the chapel
And the bride is oh so happy
And daddy's got a shotgun in his hand
The groom is sweatin' bullets
As the priest steps to the pulpit
He's about to make this boy into a man
Sweet Jesus in the garden
Can you grant this boy a pardon
For it's true, he really don't know what he's done?
Better lock the church door tight
'Cause at the slightest crack of light
That boy is gonna hit the ground and run
He's gonna run he's gonna fly
He's out the door and down street
And he won't say goodbye
Diapers and diatribes
Of her daddy on the rum
That boy is gonna hit the ground and run
Was it the rubbing or the tugging?
Put a bun in Nancy's oven
She's praying she's not starting to show
But the wedding set for April
And she's known since November
She ain't got hells chance of a ball of snow
What in the Lords name was he thinking
You can't blame this all on drinking
You can count the family teeth upon one hand
By midnight he was muddled
For Her gene pool is a puddle
That boy might be the daddy of his old man