| Her daddy hated his tattoos
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| But she was in love with a baby due in
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| September, early September
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| So they called the kinfolk, set up the bar
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| Threw some chairs out in the yard
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| And got a preacher, a Pentecostal preacher
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| And the man on the evening news
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| Promised sunny and 72, but
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| You can’t trust the weatherman
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| Makes his livin' off a lucky chance
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| Whole crowd was soakin' wet
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| Mud all over Mama’s dress
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| No sign of the sun
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| But a surefire sign of things to come
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| One thing you can plan
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| You can’t trust the weatherman
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| Six months after the knot got tied
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| There were diapers and a double wide
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| They couldn’t pay for
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| One day they had a brainstorm
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| She held the gun he cracked the safe
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| They pulled it off and they pulled away
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| They were laughin' till they saw lights flashin'
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| Forecast on the radio
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| Never ever mentioned snow, but
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| You can’t trust the weatherman
|
| Makes his livin' off a lucky chance
|
| Cop car hit a patch of ice
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| Spun around, flipped on its side
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| That couple got away
|
| Cops only had one thing to blame
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| Shook off the snow, threw up their hands
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| Said, You can’t trust the weatherman
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| They hid their cash under the bed
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| Of a condo in Club Med
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| Where the chance of sunshine is
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| One hundred percent, but
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| You can’t trust the weatherman
|
| Makes his livin' off a lucky chance
|
| Hurricane came rippin' through
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| Tore that condo right in two
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| Stuff scattered everywhere
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| Stolen money flyin' through the air
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| If you wonder how the story ends
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| They’re back out in the sticks again
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| So remember when you’re makin' plans
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| You can’t trust the weatherman
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| Can’t trust the weatherman, no no |