The Patron Saint of Losers — текст песни (John Wesley Harding)

Im standing in the corridor, successfully being me

Smoking a quick cigarette to liven up the journey

Of course I got my walkman on, its playing let it bleed

Cos Im the patron saint of losers

And youre the queen of need

And Im the patron saint of losers

So say a prayer to me

Say a prayer, you know who taddress it to



Im walking down the station, just looking straight ahead

And I just lost my ticket, and I just lost the thread

And I wonder if just one small body could fill up all my bed

Hey Im the patron saint of losers

And youre the queen of the dead

And Im the patron saint of losers

Thats what you said, you called me

The patron saint of losers

The patron saint of losers





Deliver me, deliver me from that which Ive undone

Cos if youre looking for a loser, I might just be one

Martyrdoms the only thing that faguely turns me on

Cos Im the patron saint





Im walking up the staircase, and Im knocking at your door

And someone shouts youre out of place, youre blocking up the hall

But Ive been here 15 years, so baby its your call

Cos Im the patron saint of losers

Woah, honey, Ive lost it all

Im the patron saint of losers

Proud before the fall

Im the patron saint of losers

Im the patron saint of losers.