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.