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Текст (слова) песни: John Wesley Harding - The Patron Saint of Losers
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.
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