Thursday

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 space 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 cokes 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