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