Groom quivers. Wide-eyed down the aisle
He stares; in just a while, he'll say
Two words. . .makin' his knees shakin';
He'd like to be goin' right now. . .run away.

Then, driftin' in, he sees the girl,
Hair curled, wearing her finery.
The joints in his legs start to bend,
Nerve impulses are sent,
He runs like a tight end.
Groom slithered--he's free.