Saints Prayer by The Jazz Butcher Lyrics

For all the saints, who took their chance
Who wrote their own rules, their own romance
In upstairs rooms, on boats and trains
De Profundis, threads and stains
The work remains

Lord, I'm going to shake it
Lord I'm going to take it, Lord...

May all the saints, who from their labours rest
Beneath the landslide of souls obsessed with right and wrong
Who dared to stand against the tide
Be on your side