 
"Misery"
Virginia was a “lot lizard” from F.L.A.
She had a compound fracture in the “trunk”
It started when she ran away
Thumbs out on the interstate
She hitched a ride to misery
“Mr. Whirly” had a catastrophic incident
He fell into the city by the bay
He liquidated his estate
Now he sleeps upon the Haight
Panhandling misery
**And he's gonna get high high high
When he's low low low
The fire burns from better days
And she screams why oh why
I said I don't know
The catastrophic hymns from yesterday
Of misery
Vinnie was a hustler out of Amsterdam
He ran the drug cartel in “tinseltown”
They found him in a cadillac
Bludgeoned with a baseball bat in the name
Of misery
Gina hit the road to New York City
Mysteriously the night Vinnie croaked
She stopped in Vegas to elope
With Virginia and the dope
And kissed the bride eternally
**And they're gonna get high high high
When they're low low low
The fire burns from better days
And she screams why oh why
I said I don't know
The catastrophic hymns from yesterday
Of misery
Well hell hounds on your trail now once again…boy
It's groping on your leg until it sleeps
The emptiness will fill your soul with sorrow
'Cause it's not what you make it's what you leave
**And we're gonna get high high high
When I'm low low low
The fire burns from better days
And she screams why oh why
I said I don't know
The catastrophic hymns from yesterday
Of misery
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"St. Jimmy"
St. Jimmy's comin' down across the alleyway
Up on the boulevard like a zip gun on parade
Light of a silhouette
He's insubordinate
Coming at you on the 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 thieves
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 under a 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 TALKING 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'm the one that's from the way outside
I'm a teenage assassin executing 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 name...and don't wear it out!
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