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 rolled her up in gra** 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
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