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 sheets
And then he rolled her up in grass and trees
And they kissed 'till 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!

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