Fancylad, fancylad,
How did you blow your inheritance, fancylad?
Sing me your parents' embarra**ment, fancylad
Sing to me your pink-flowering thorn
You never asked to be born
Your woes, they shine like tiny gemstones
What an exquisite collection, such an exquisite collection
Shall I tell you whether they're real or not
Before I cut them to perfection?
The better to bedeck you
What an exquisite collection
Fancylad, fancylad,
How did you blow your inheritance, fancylad?
Sing me your parents' embarra**ment, fancylad
Sing to me your pink-flowering thorn
You never asked to be born
Your wound, wherever did you find it?
Wet-petalled like a vagina
Shall I straighten this crooked boutonniere?
It shouldn't be pinned onto your coat
Plant it deep in your heart's hole
Wherever did you find it?
Fancylad, fancylad,
How shall I write your biography, fancylad?
Five hundred diary pages about your dad
Sing to me your pink-flowering thorn
You never asked to be born
You never asked to be born
You'll live, you'll live, you'll live
All cried out like a girl but you'll live
Mama's little mixed-up man
You'll live, you'll live, you'll live
All cried out like a girl but you'll live
Mama's little mixed-up man