Lyrics:

Michael you don't know the half of a mess
Getting made down at your favorite address
Pretty seraphs cutting holes in us all
Checking stains in the stalls
Getting season box seats for the fall
With their challenge to the too weak to fight
Leave them shaking with their faces drained white
Shooting red glare in the dawn's early light
Knocking doors in the night
Flush them out, they'll get picked off in flight
Angel gel it awhile
And take some appropriate notice
Before all the numbers are in
Saint Michael you don't need one more win
Who's that little pile of smiles?
Get away thank you, I don't need a tax audit
I haven't made one ha-ha-half dollar all year
I'm a man in the clear
Who does not need company here
Must be old heathen Ed in a rail stop gin bag rain tarp
Nobody bother me spree
Comic relief pee sprays down his knee
I know kids about three
More goddamn impressive than me

Boards and tin and empties of gin
And God only knows how many holes he's been in
Saint Michael you don't need one more win
(Tell 'em Jim, tell 'em Jim...)
Captain Jim throws the prime directive out
For the umpteenth time, it's habit for him now
Reeling wild from the stern to the bow
With T'Pring and T'Pau
I know why they call a starship 'she' now
Volunteers, the man needs volunteers
It's a special mission for a special deputy
Up jump an eager pup saying
Put in put in put in put in put in put in put in put in put in put in
Put in a good word for me
Oh no master my teeth aren't to chatter
That's just them dry bone crack down
Right down under the skin
Saint Michael you don't need one more win