|
The saints all hang their heads |
|
The avenue is long |
|
They're muffling their voices |
|
In the cold breaking dawn |
|
The saints are in their element |
|
The elements are brave |
|
The voices and the wrecking crew |
|
And the marching of the saints |
|
The saints are playing horseshoes |
|
The flood is in the past |
|
And mercy isn't critical |
|
Sometimes they even laugh |
|
On their way uptown |
|
So much to do so much to say |
|
In letters red and crystalline |
|
Go marching in the saints [CHORUS] |
|
The saints, the saints |
|
Gonna meet you once again |
|
The saints, the saints |
|
In the neon light of the saints |
|
The saints are just as relevant |
|
As the old evening blues |
|
The saints wrap 'round the city |
|
They flicker and they choose |
|
Sometimes they are connected |
|
Sometimes they hope and pray |
|
In letters red and crystalline |
|
Go marching in the saints [CHORUS] |