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.

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.

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Peermusic Publishing
Writer(s): Neko Case, Paul Rigby