The Holiday Song歌词

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 impregnated her on the sheets

And then rolled her up in grass 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