The forecast calls for pain Coffee for my breakfast Shot of whiskey on the side It's a dark and dreary morning With the clouds covering up the sky My baby's turning cold And the forecast calls for pain

Whiskey or the Bible A shot glass or revival When you don't seem to run on either side of the fence People act like you don't make sense These big town dreams that I've been chasin' Will never come true if I wind up stayin' And I don't want to fall in