Well, sit right down my wicked son
  And let me tell you a story 
  About the boy who fell from glory
  And how he was a wicked son 

    This ain't no holiday 
    But it always turns out this way 
    Here I am with my hand

  He took his sister from his head
  And impregnated her on the sheets 
  And they rolled her up in grass and trees
  And they kissed until they were dead 

    This ain't no holiday 
    But it always turns out this way 
    Here I am with my hand 

  Well, sit right down my evil son 
  And let me tell you a story 
  About the boy who fell from glory
  And how he was a wicked son 

    This ain't no holiday right now 
    But it always turns out this way 
    Here I am with my hand 

    This ain't no holiday 
    But it always turns out this way 
    Here I am with my hand

		Black Francis
		(p) 1987 4-A-D
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