Letra de The Holiday Song (Live from Fine Line Music Cafe, Minneapolis, MN. April 13th, 2004)
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 sonThis ain't no holiday, no, no It always turns out this way Here I am with my handWell, he took his sister from his head, and then painted her on the sheet And he rolled her up in grass and trees, and they kissed 'til they were deadThis ain't no holiday, no, no It always turns out this way Here I am with my handWell, sit right down, my evil son, let me tell you a story About the boy who fell from glory and how he was a wicked sonThis ain't no holiday, no, no It always turns out this way Here I am with my handThis ain't no holiday It always turns out this way Here I am with my handPixies