Killah Priest, and he taught me how to follow it I walked through the Valley of the Kings With a white robe, white rose and what I will brings And your
den blazed and hit em, what (c'mon) And I just wanna rock wit you (that's right) And take it straight to the top with you (let's go) And do what I gots
a saint never was conceited never was defeated Sometimes I get tired sometimes I want to faint. But I never shut up when things piss me off And if I
night And I saw the bright angels in glory I saw the fair mansions of light I gazed for long, long years of rapture On the face of my Savior so true And
Bury all your secrets in my skin Come away with innocence and leave me with my sins The air around me still feels like a cage And love is just a camouflage
A song playin' in my head Send me an angel Move on up ahead (Scent of an angel) Sendin' a message 'Cause I feel a little cold and blue (Scent of an angel
and tell that beef I'm burger king, I represent that saint's sign, I'm so high I can paint signs, and if she ain't fine, she ain't mine, and thank god
You're no angel, I'm no saint If we were, we wouldn't be in this place tonight Lost and lonely, scared and confused We both have a past, nothing to lose
That 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
New York, Los Angeles, oh how I yearned for you Detroit, Chicago, Chattanooga, Baton Rouge Let alone just to be back in Chuck Berry's old Saint Lou
the glory land There to sing Gods praise and his glory share Over in the glory land What a joyful thought that my Lord Ill see Over in the glory land And
angels singing, Beyond the shadows of the tomb; And all the bells of heaven ringing, While saints are singing, "Home, sweet home." Some day my labors will be ended, And
'cause You hear me, Lord, when I call to You in prayer I can sing with my last breath, sing for I know That I'll sing with the Angels and the Saints
Oh sovereign God, Oh matchless King The saints adore, the angels sing And fall before the throne of grace To You belongs the highest praise These sufferings
's a dead end search, it's a nowhere thread Looking for the living down among the dead No devil in hell, no angel above Can separate the saints from the
no longer I'm getting ready to meet the saints This old house is getting shaky This old house is getting old This old house lets in the rain and This
and I was twelve And the spectre would often brush In and out of treatments Since twenty months of age At eighteen the insurance No longer would maintain And
glass Saints and martyrs Dance Dance on glass Saints and martyrs Tarnish, taint and punish me softly Cut that bleeds and burning skin Screami ng in the darkness torn and