Hit the Ground and Run Songtext
von Great Big Sea
Hit the Ground and Run Songtext
Oh 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:
Won't you grant this boy a pardon?
For its true he really don′t know what he′s done.
You better lock the church door tight!
'Cause at the slightest crack of light,
That boy′s 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.
Sweet Jesus in the Garden:
Won′t you grant this boy a pardon?
For its true he really don't know what he′s done.
You better lock the church door tight!
'Cause at the slightest crack of light,
That boy′s 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.
[Banjo solo]
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.
Now he might be the Daddy of his old man.
Sweet Jesus in the Garden:
Won′t you grant this boy a pardon?
For its true he really don't know what he′s done.
You better lock the church door tight!
'Cause at the slightest crack of light,
That boy′s 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.
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.
That boy is gonna hit the ground and run!
That boy is gonna hit the ground and run!
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:
Won't you grant this boy a pardon?
For its true he really don′t know what he′s done.
You better lock the church door tight!
'Cause at the slightest crack of light,
That boy′s 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.
Sweet Jesus in the Garden:
Won′t you grant this boy a pardon?
For its true he really don't know what he′s done.
You better lock the church door tight!
'Cause at the slightest crack of light,
That boy′s 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.
[Banjo solo]
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.
Now he might be the Daddy of his old man.
Sweet Jesus in the Garden:
Won′t you grant this boy a pardon?
For its true he really don't know what he′s done.
You better lock the church door tight!
'Cause at the slightest crack of light,
That boy′s 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.
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.
That boy is gonna hit the ground and run!
That boy is gonna hit the ground and run!
Writer(s): Alan Thomas Doyle, Russell Ira Crowe Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
