Fancylad, fancylad, How did you blow your inheritance, fancylad? Sing me your parents' embarrassment, 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' embarrassment, 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