It's what they would call it,

him the Saint- and his home a club of sevens.

show after show- he described them as

setting windows on fire

faces blend together

warped tour.

seven was his lucky number-

jackpot wasn't an inside joke

he believed every seventh seventh-

was his day. Usually find him in that club

telling his Saint that after the seventh everyones' a seven.

fogged memories and a trojan horse-

his excuse for fried wires

and finding the end of the line with the tip of his nose.

candy rockstar- and a show to do

never slowed her down but he counted his sevens

never a dice roller or a card slider

fighting for a fiend in the heart of July

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