Bracing For Sunday 歌词

I dropped my gloves into the stove Hymns echoed out the grate I fell in love with those electric lights That drug me into town so late To nimble, cunning, clever nights I railed behind them, deputized To scrape the lens of Christian eyes I'm a Friday night girl Bracing for Sunday to come I only ever held one love Her name was Mary Anne She died having a child by her brother He died because I murdered him I shot him through his jelly eye And I won myself his wicked life Now I thread-the-needle waltz through mine I'm a Friday night girl Bracing for Sunday to come I emptied onto shifting sheets Staring rosary holes in my ceiling Waiting for my purpose to deliver And reveal itself to me But all I hear are subway trains Bang against their bedrock lanes So I bang a little too I'm a Friday night girl Bracing for Sunday to come Bracing for Sunday to come