A song of sorrow, of regret, of pleading out in hopes of help.
Shot in Buttermere Church and Keswick Graveyard, various crows as special guests
Lyrics:
Now I've never been the religious type
And I don't know when I last prayed
But I'm calling out for St Michael now
Cos the dragon that he slayed is back
They say the devil takes many forms
And there's one I know too well
So I hope St Michael hears me now
Before I'm dragged back down to hell again
I'll plead out for just anyone
To save my mortal soul
The patron saint of beggars
Couldn't change what was foretold for me
Cos I've prayed to Elizabeth
And Giles has heard my cries
But life is what we make of it
Free will is my demise again
What man has formed only God can split
We've bastardised creation
If you hear from John, tell him
I've got my revelations to live
Now I've never been the religious type
And I don't know when I last prayed
But if don't fall from God with grace
Then I hope my soul is saved again