I. THE DEATH OF ST. JIMMY
MY HEART IS BEATING FROM ME
I AM STANDING ALL ALONE. PLEASE CALL ME
ONLY IF YOU ARE COMING HOME
WASTE ANOTHER YEAR FLIES BY WASTE A NIGHT OR TWO
YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LIVE IN THE STREETS OF SHAME
WHERE YOU'VE LOST YOUR DREAMS IN THE RAIN
THERE'S NO SIGN OF HOPE
THE STEMS AND SEEDS OF THE LAST OF THE DOPE
THERE'S A GLOW OF LIGHT. THE ST. JIMMY IS THE SPARK IN THE NIGHT
BEARING GIFTS AND TRUST. THE FIXTURE IN THE CITY OF LUST.
"WHAT THE HELL'S YOUR NAME?"
WHAT'S YOUR PLEASURE AND WHAT'S YOUR PAIN?
DO YOU DREAM TOO MUCH?
DO YOU THINK WHAT YOU NEED IS A CRUTCH?
IN THE CROWD OF PAIN, ST. JIMMY COMES WITHOUT ANY SHAME
HE SAYS "WE'RE FUCKED UP"
BUT WE'RE NOT THE SAME
AND MOM AND DAD ARE THE ONES YOU CAN BLAME
JIMMY DIED TODAY.
HE BLEW HIS BRAINS OUT INTO THE BAY
IN THE STATE OF MIND
IN MY OWN PRIVATE SUICIDE