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Bracing For Sunday
Neko Case
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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.
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