St. Jimmy's comin' down across the alleyway. Up on the boulevard like a zip gun on parade. Light on the sillohette. He's insubordinate. Coming at you on account of 1 2, 1 2 3 4.
My name is JIMMY and you better not wear it out. Suicide comando that your momma talked about, king of the forty theives and 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 the halo of lights THE 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 talkin' 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 am the one that's from the way outside. A teenage assasin exucuting 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 and the resident leader at the lost and found...

It's COMEDY and TRAGEDY. It's St. Jimmy, and that's my nameeeeeee... and don't wear it out!