It's warm for November
It looks like rain
She drives the interstate
Stays in the slow lane
She's got two babies in the back
Got huggies in the front
There's no s***e to sit
'Cause it's full of baby junk
She grew up in Dallas
Had a baby real young
Then what's-his-name left when she had another one
She says "I got these babies
They got all these names
I hurt inside"
And then it starts to rain
It's a Thursday morning
She feels all alone
got a hole inside
It's like a country song
But it feels a lot sadder than what the radio plays
So she pulls off in Waco for some c**es and fries
She idles in the drive when the babies start to cry
She starts to cry when she hears "Daddy gone"
Girl in the window says, "Man there's something wrong"
It's a Thursday morning
She feels all alone
Got a hole inside
It's like a country song
But feels lot sadder than what the radio plays
There's a parking lot in Waco
She sees things clear
Got a backseat full of babies
Got a frosty full of tears
Then the babies quit crying
The rain lets up
She's up to on-ramp
Behind a long haul truck
It's warm for November
It looks like rain
She drives the interstate
Stays in the slow lane
It's warm for November
Looks like rain
She drives
Monday's child is fair of faith
Tuesday's child she's full of grace
Wednesday's child she's full of woe
And Thursday's child's got four to go
It looks like rain
She drives the interstate
Stays in the slow lane
She's got two babies in the back
Got huggies in the front
There's no s***e to sit
'Cause it's full of baby junk
She grew up in Dallas
Had a baby real young
Then what's-his-name left when she had another one
She says "I got these babies
They got all these names
I hurt inside"
And then it starts to rain
It's a Thursday morning
She feels all alone
got a hole inside
It's like a country song
But it feels a lot sadder than what the radio plays
So she pulls off in Waco for some c**es and fries
She idles in the drive when the babies start to cry
She starts to cry when she hears "Daddy gone"
Girl in the window says, "Man there's something wrong"
It's a Thursday morning
She feels all alone
Got a hole inside
It's like a country song
But feels lot sadder than what the radio plays
There's a parking lot in Waco
She sees things clear
Got a backseat full of babies
Got a frosty full of tears
Then the babies quit crying
The rain lets up
She's up to on-ramp
Behind a long haul truck
It's warm for November
It looks like rain
She drives the interstate
Stays in the slow lane
It's warm for November
Looks like rain
She drives
Monday's child is fair of faith
Tuesday's child she's full of grace
Wednesday's child she's full of woe
And Thursday's child's got four to go