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The Saints




[Music & Lyrics: Weikath]


Gimme gimme sell your souls

I skin and strip you bold(ly)

My revenue ain't yours

All means my way, I'm mighty


I clutch what's mine, yours sevenfold

I leave you in the cold

Got all my schemes in place

You stifle in my maze


All you shysters

Seek shelter on the last day

While you laugh loud, disclaiming

As your dire end will come/dawn on you


Ah you..!

Possessed, in your mask, and a dirty heart

Unrest in ye must've been the devil in all of us


The saints are marching again

And harvest souls

Taking every single one


The saints march again

And harmony

Is here, ye can go testify


Don't you dream you're ever safe

I ll get you in your grave

Go molest your heirs with my

sleight of hand attorneys - I


Profit at your dear expense

Cash in, perform my prance

Relinquish and lose what you

toiled for, anyway