Lyrics:
stories narrator
Not a saint of saint of
All of these creators
Just ya hey love hey love
Got my genius woken all night
Painter painter
My stories narrator
screw
I probably do shit you could never do
And did it all by myself bitch
You know how I move
East saint Laurent yea
East saint Laurent yea
East saint
the zone
Drew Brees through the zone
And the Saints put me on
Yeah the Saints put me on
Slow your roll lil fella
All that storms ain't weather
When, why,
all that I can brave
I'll mimic you by beating on
The patron saint of keeping on
Patron saint of the Jet Stream
The way you move invisibly
Can you teach
The storming of the terror-ridden mountain of doom
Let the black magick ritual commence
Licked by the flames as they dance in the gloom
The sisters
by her apron strings
'Twern't for powder and her store-bought hair
The man she love wouldn't gone nowhere, nowhere
Got them Saint Louis Blues; I'm
driven by logic rarely by instinct
I refuse to join the cult
understand that all the old way does is harm
the truth doesn't demand belief
make
calculate how far I'm sunk
By torpedo love and dreary junk
By torpedo love and dreary junk
Hagiography, I'm no saint, me, I'm no saint, me
Hagiography, I'm
by her apron strings
'Twern't for powder and her store-bought hair
The man she love wouldn't gone nowhere, nowhere
Got them Saint Louis Blues; I'm
Now, don't you want to become a cult leader?
Don't you want devoted followers?
Who leave their families for you?
Give their money to you?
Give their
(The world has been created by the drop of water)
Re sadhu bhai
(Oh Saint!)
khojat guru re hamara
(The Guru would provide you with the answers)
Khoj
(The world has been created by the drop of water)
Re sadhu bhai
(Oh Saint!)
khojat guru re hamara
(The Guru would provide you with the answers)
Khoj
Let's snap our fingers clap our hands
Down by the riverside, down by the riverside, down by the riverside
Let's give 'em what the song demands
By all Your saints in warfare
For all Your saints at rest
Your holy name, O Jesus
Forevermore be blest
For You have won the battle
That they might
today,
Feel tomorrow like I feel today,
I'll pack my trunk, make ma git away.
Saint Louis woman wid her diamon' rings
Pulls dat man 'roun' by her
a trance invoking with feral witches
Bushpig pictures incorporated explicit
Body horror scriptures
Death cult suicidal orgy with
No living witness
Death by
by her apron strings
'Twern't for powder and her store-bought hair
The man she love wouldn't gone nowhere, nowhere
Got them Saint Louis Blues; I'm
Well children by and by when the morning comes
All the saints of God together they come
We will tell the story how the Lord will come
And we'll
It's an immediacy now that's in the glare of television
Crippled by your self-obsession and weight of indecision
You've reached the top by lying,
cousin of The Rock
I said a skinny cousin of The Rock
Yeah It's Dexter Saint Jock
What a beautiful girl like you doin' by herself on the island alone?
out like in a cult "My childhood's about to end"
You wish but it's just beginning
First inning you swing and you missing
Can't handle me dissing
Action and reaction come
When I criticize
The cults and their influence
Taking notice of how hate
And religion have
Most crystallized congruence
Must
the relics were found) and
Interred here in Santiago...I picked up a CD collection of music emanating from
The pilgrimage route to Santiago, as well as a CD by
You're a saint
And I'm a sinner
You're a saint
And I'm a sinner
So you've seen those lies and heard my pain
I've been a demon, but you think
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