Lyrics
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 then painted her on the sheet
And then he rolled her up in grass and trees, and they kissed 'til 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, no, no!
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
