Whatever happened to St. James, the patron saint of Spain
I think he’s lost his head, I think he’s gone insane
He’s drinking bourbon whiskey and he’s snorting crack cocaine
Oh lord, oh Christ whatever happened to our friend St. James?
Well he was the son of Zebedee, the first to join the Savior
But as of late he’s full of hate and up to strange behavior
He’ll go home with three escorts and he’ll come back out with four
I hate to say, if he stays this way he’ll be a saint no more
Well he gambles on the Sabbath and his new church is a bar
He steals from the collection plate and spends it on cigars
He swears in front of mothers and he swears in front of youth
He’ll get in to a fistfight ‘til he’s only got one tooth
Now James has become a vandal, he’s got three cans of paint
I never thought I’d see this side of the Spanish saint
He stays out ‘til the morning and he drinks until he faints
Oh lord, oh Christ whatever happened to that Spanish saint
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