I believe most people are good And most mama's oughta qualify for sainthood I believe most Friday nights look better under neon or stadium lights I believe you love who you love Ain't nothing you should ever be ashamed of I believe this world ain't half

Saint Anger 'round my neck I'm madly in anger with you! You flush it out, you flush it out He never gets respect Fuck it all and fuckin' no regrets I hit the lights on these dark sets And I need to set my anger free I need a voice to let myself To let

Been called a monster, called a demon, called a fake (Called a fake) I'm not an idol, not an angel, not a saint (I'm not a saint) I walk alone, I always have, I'm not ashamed (Not ashamed) I walk alone (On and on and on) Love me or hate me

I'll shake my fist up to the sky Just keeping my dreams alive I'm one part saint and two part sinner, And the last part is still on the line If I only knew what I know Grown from a seed of hope I've never known Been raised by the surroundings of a home

The gods will ignore your end (they'll defend the elder) The lords won't salute you The savior won't heal your soul Now let the saints The saints come marching in The hare once betrayed me and so did the fox and the crow Just once defied me There's me

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing Be my mirror, my sword and shield My missionaries in a foreign field For some reason I can't explain Roman Calvary choirs are singing I know Saint Peter won't call my name Never an honest word But that was when I ruled

Someone save us Heaven help us now Come crashing down We'll hear the sound As you're falling down Or make a saint of me? And will you lay for me? 'Cause I'll give you all the nails you need (You don't know a thing about my sins)

You say our love Is like dynamite Well you're killing me Why don't you just set me free Too young to fall in love Run for the hills We're both sinners and saints Not a woman but a whore I can just taste the hate

I do what I like, I do, I do I left a nigga on read 'cause I felt like it Dress me down in that Raf, Saint Laurent jacket Dapper, dapper, I look fine and my checks divine No wonder, wonder why I do whatever I like I think us bad bitches is a gift from

I'm not your patron saint You're not my angel dear Horns up or down and now horns up I am your warpaint Lets make this crystal clear Horns up I am your worst fear Bloodshot eyes and a dead beat stance Shit for brains I'm a game of change One cut, two cut