The Holiday Song Lyrics

 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