Fancylad, fancylad, How did you blow your inheritance, fancylad? Sing me your parents' embarra**ment, fancylad Sing to me your pink-flowering thorn You never asked to be born Your woes, they shine like tiny gemstones What an exquisite collection, such an exquisite collection Shall I tell you whether they're real or not Before I cut them to perfection? The better to bedeck you What an exquisite collection Fancylad, fancylad, How did you blow your inheritance, fancylad? Sing me your parents' embarra**ment, fancylad Sing to me your pink-flowering thorn You never asked to be born Your wound, wherever did you find it? Wet-petalled like a vagina Shall I straighten this crooked boutonniere? It shouldn't be pinned onto your coat Plant it deep in your heart's hole Wherever did you find it? Fancylad, fancylad, How shall I write your biography, fancylad? Five hundred diary pages about your dad Sing to me your pink-flowering thorn You never asked to be born You never asked to be born You'll live, you'll live, you'll live All cried out like a girl but you'll live Mama's little mixed-up man You'll live, you'll live, you'll live All cried out like a girl but you'll live Mama's little mixed-up man