Riding my bike by the seawall,
Stormtide's up by six feet or more,
Washing over the shore.
Shrimp boats packed in the bayou,
Making fast, bow and stern, for the blow--
Praying their anchors hold.
Chorus:
So it's bring in the chairs,
And tape up the glass--
Turn your radio on.
We're gonna be blown away,
We'll be drowned in the bay,
There's a hurricane coming--
I hope it don't last too long.
There's a hurricane coming--
I hope we make it 'til dawn.
Cars backing up on the highway
Heading north to Alabama in the rain--
Filling four-lanes.
Everyone's heading for shelter,
Lock up your windows and cover your doors,
Board up the stores.
chorus
Riding my bike by the seawall,
Fighting the rain, I get drenched to the bone--
I point my ten-speed home.
Rain coming down by the bucket,
Wind whips the bay into some kind of brew--
There's nothing I can do,
Except bring in the chairs,
And tape up the glass--
Turn your radio on.
We're gonna be blown away,
We'll be drowned in the bay,
There's a hurricane coming--
I hope it don't last too long.
There's a hurricane coming--
I hope we make it 'til dawn.