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
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