LYRICS
Use A− / A+ to adjust text sizeHoliday Song
Well, sit right down my wicked sonAnd let me tell you a storyAbout the boy who fell from gloryAnd how he was a wicked sonThis ain't no holidayBut it always turns out this wayHere I am with my handHe took his sister from his headAnd impregnated her on the sheetsAnd they rolled her up in grass and treesAnd they kissed until they were deadThis ain't no holidayBut it always turns out this wayHere I am with my handWell, sit right down my evil sonAnd let me tell you a storyAbout the boy who fell from gloryAnd how he was a wicked sonThis ain't no holiday right nowBut it always turns out this wayHere I am with my handThis ain't no holidayBut it always turns out this wayHere I am with my hand
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