Late night when I heard the inmate says
Telling tales of his youth, gone far away
Spooky stories pass from father to son
This fearful saint, the way he became known
Heartless, desire to kill
Colts made in hell
Tomb under a hill, death at God's will
Gunslinger in black
Save my soul, spare my life
Cause there's no prayer
For the saint of killers
Countdown the days, the murderer says
Last meal to savor, confessioned sins
He waits for the saint, to reap his soul
Even killers need some hope on death row
The wrath of heaven is coming down on earth
Trench coat, boots and hat, the saint comes in black
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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