Patron Saint (Of Nothing)

To put my hands up and rally for love
When London's so violent, it's capital love.
In this film you're playing the part
Like Chaplin in silence
It's death do us part

Dead from the neck up
Who cares
Why would I waste my time on his glory
Car slides
Who cares
My Glorious end for all to share

Drop bombs & make haste if you can, we're all the sick public figures with our heads in the sand.

The Patron Saint, well of nothing he says, I've got my own two fingers and I'm pretty much proud of it!

To keep my hands up to cover my face
Like boxers in street fights, it's our little race.
In this film you're playing the part
Like Al Capone does and the way that he scars, stars, scars, stars.

Dead from the neck up
Who cares
Why would I waste my time on his glory
Car slides
Who cares
My Glorious end for all to share

WE ARE THE CHILDREN AND WE'RE ALREADY DEAD

Drop bombs & make haste if you can, we're all the sick public figures with our heads in the sand.

The Patron Saint, well of nothing he says, I've got my own two fingers and I'm pretty much proud of it



Credits
Writer(s): William Raybould
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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