|
Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
Dropped my gloves into the stove Clangs[?] echoed out the grate I fell in love with those electric lights That drug me into town so late Two nimble, cunning clever nights I ran behind them, deputized To scrape the lens off Christian eyes I'm a Friday night girl, bracing for Sunday to call I only ever held one love Her name was Marianne She died having a child by her brother He died because I murdered him Shot him though his jelly eye I won myself his wicked life Now I thread the needle once through mine I'm a Friday night girl, bracing for Sunday to call 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 the bed rungs, clang So I bang a little too I'm a Friday night girl, bracing for Sunday to call Bracing for Sunday to call |