The Holiday Song — текст песни (Pixies)

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 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