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Black Francis

Nimrod's Son

One night upon my motorcycle through the desert sped,
And smashed my body so bad, all my friends thought I was dead.
My sister held me close and whispered to my bleeding head,
'You are the son of a motherfucker.'

One, two, three, four...

I shook all night and held her hand -- choke the people, well, I'll be damned.
Land of plenty, land of fun, to find out I'm Nimrod's son.

Oh, bury me far away, please bury me.
Ahhh... the joke has come upon me!

In my motorcycle mirror, I think about the life I've led,
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And how my soul's been leaking, all the holes where I have bled.
My image spoke to me, yes to me, and often said,
'You are the son of incestuous union.'

One, two, three...

Now my head is clear, my roof has walls, my daughter's pure, my son is tall.
Land of plenty, land of fun, to find out I'm Nimrod's son.

Oh, bury me far away, please bury me.
Ahhh... the joke has come upon me!