Jim Clements

When The Saints Go
(J. Clements)

When St. Kevin was praying, an egg fell into his hands,
And he knew that if he flinched, it’d be dashed across the sand,
So he stayed in that position for twenty days and nights,
Until the little egg broken open, and the little bird took flight.

Some folks pray to fill their own cup,
Asking for a favour, wishing for some luck.
Some folks pray to fill their own cup,
But the best ones pray to keep someone else up.

St. Nick knew a lady, beautiful and sweet,
Who couldn’t feed her kids and was forced to work the streets,
So Nick cleaned out his savings, took a stroll down to her place,
Dropped the money down her chimney, and left without a trace.

St. Kathy loved her Lord so much that, when she was killed,
From the hole were her head once was, she bled a stream of milk.
Uncumber loved her Lord too, but her fiancé she feared,
So, to turn him off, she prayed to God, and proudly grew a beard.
And Dunstan took his pliers and pinched the devil’s nose,
And flung him down to Hades, where the ground promptly froze.
And Ronnie wiped the Lord’s tears; he left an imprint of his face,
Now she hangs in her living room, above the fireplace.

Something’s off in this city, something’s dying in this town.
There’s too many dark faces in these tunnels underground.
And we’re losing our best people, a dozen every day,
And all our days are numbered if the saints go on their way.

Jim Clements - Vocals, Acoustic Guitar
Richard Clements - Drums
Dave Gooblar - Bass
Maya Ahuja - Violin
Lucy Jordan - Piano, Organ