call on that saint. and the candle that burns. keeping her safe. until her return plaster and paint. holding the fire. a poor woman's saint. holding all man's desire bold little bird. fly away
stories, the kids call him Jimmy theSaint. Well, that blaze-and-noise boy, he's gunnin' that bitch loaded to blastin' point. He rides head first into a hurricane and disappears into a point. And there's
like the devils child, your the one who slammed the door. . Everybody thinks they know me, your a saint and I'm the phony. But your the one who faked it all along, everybody see's you crying lying
Hammer and a nail. Hammer and a nail. Saint behind the glass. Holds a hammer and a nail Baby in his arms. Baby in his arms. Saint behind the glass. Has a baby in his arms Watches me sleep
Sons of the thief, sons of thesaint. Who is the child with no complaint. Sons of the great or sons unknown. All were children like your own. The same sweet smiles, the same sad tears. The cries
right, don't fight the direction of upright I'd rather forget and not slow down. Than gather regret for the things I can't change now. If I become what I can't accept, resurrect thesaint from within
spinning round a saint. Like colored wild sign. Theresa talkin' in the rain Like girl be growin' thru town. Windows are thoughts in the stain. I know I'd love her to stay. Whispering signs are agreeing
spinning round a saint. Like colored wild sign. There'sa talkin' in the rain. . Like girl be growin' thru town. Windows are thoughts in the stain. I know I'd love her to stay. Whispering signs are
spinning round a saint. Like colored wild sign. There'sa talkin' in the rain. . Like girl be growin' thru town. Windows are thoughts in the stain. I know I'd love her to stay. Whispering signs are
surely follow him. . Bless the free man. Bless the slave. Bless the hero in his grave. Bless the soldier. Bless thesaint. Bless all those whose hearts grow faint.
One two three four. (Ooh oh) (Ooo ooh, Merry Christmas Saint Nick). Well way up north where the air gets cold. There's a tale about Christmas. That you've all been told. And a real famous cat
. And it wasn't too long before her audience danced. The lady said "rise". She said "rise". . chorus. When the lady came. Her audience sang. The hands of thesaint are feeling us today. Oh yeah
victim of the fury. Glory to thesaint, before you start to bury God hates the Lords of Salem. No can ever save them. God hates the Lords of Salem. No one can destroy them God hates the Lords of Salem