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St. Jimmy is coming down across the alleyway Up on the boulevard, like a zip gun on parade Lights of a silhouette, he's insubordinate Coming at you on the count of one, two One, two, three, four My name is Jimmy and you better not wear it out Suicide commando that your momma talked about King of the forty thieves I'm here to represent That needle in the vein of the establishment I'm the patron saint of the denial With an angel face and a taste for suicidal Cigarettes and ramen and a little bag of dope I am the son of a bitch and Edgar Allen Poe Raised in the city in a halo of lights Product of war and fear that we've been victimized I'm the patron saint of the denial With an angel face and a taste for suicidal Are you talking to me? I'll give you something to cry about St. Jimmy My name is St. Jimmy, I'm a son of a gun I'm the one that's from the way outside I'm a teenage assassin executing some fun In the cult of the life of crime I really hate to say it but I told you so So shut your mouth before I shoot you down old boy Welcome to the club and give me some blood I'm the resident leader at the lost and found It's comedy and tragedy It's St. Jimmy and that's my name And don't wear it out