St. Jimmy's comin' down across the alleyway
Up on the boulevard like a zip gun on parade
Lights on the silhouette, he's insubordinate
Coming at you on the count of one, two
One, two, three, four!

My name is Jimmy, and you better not wear it out
Suicide commando that your momma talked about
King of the forty thieves, and I'm here to represent
The needle in the vein of the establishment

I'm the patron saint of the denial
With an angel face and a taste for suicidal

Cigarettes and ramen and a little bag of dope
I am the son of a bitch and Edgar Allan Poe
Raised in the city in the halo of lights
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
Shh! Shh! Shh! St. Jimmy!

My name is St. Jimmy, I'm a son of a gun
(Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, St. Jimmy)
I'm the one that's from the way outside, now
A teenage assassin executing some fun
(Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, St. Jimmy)
In the cult of the life of crime, now
I really hate to say it, but I told you so
(Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, St. Jimmy)
So shut your mouth before I shoot you down, ol' boy
Welcome to the club and give me some blood
(Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, St. Jimmy)
I'm the resident leader of the lost and found

It's comedy and tragedy
It's St. Jimmy, and that's my name
And don't wear it out!