Bracing for Sunday

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.