Bracing for Sunday

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