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!