St. Jimmy's comin' down across the alleyway
Up on the boulevard like a zip gun on parade
Light up the sillohette
He's insubordinate
Coming at you on a count of
1,2,1,2,3,4!

My name is Jimmy and you better not wear it out
Suicide commando that your momma talked about
King of the forty theives
I'm here to represent
The 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 bi*ch and Edgar Allen Poe
Raised in the city under 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

You talkin' to me?

I'll give you something to cry about.

ST. JIMMY!

My name is St. Jimmy I'm the son of a gun
I am the one that's from the way outside now
A teenage assasin executing some fun
And the cult of the life of crime now

I really hate to say it but I told you so
So shut your mouth before I shoot you down ol' boy
Welcome to the club...oh give me some blood
And the resident leader of the lost and found

It's comedy and tragedy
It's St. Jimmy...
And that's my name...and don't wear it out!