WARGASM - Your Patron Saints lyrics

I am the patron saint of blood and sex (Oh!)
Born in fire, unholy undress
Restless brain and carnal tongue
Would you sell your soul, sell your soul
Sell your soul just to have some fun?
(Sell your soul for fun)
Baby wants to have fun

Does anybody out there pray for you, prey on me
I've lost my faith in friends and saints again, again, again
We're always running like there's something wrong
You catch your devils on the tip of your tongue
'Cause you're so headstrong, go!
(Bless our souls we're out of control)
(Bless our souls we're out of control)

I am the patron saint of disappointment
Birthed in poison, unholy anointed
We've given up on love so all we do is touch
We've given up on love, we've given up on love
We've given up on love so just gimme the drugs
I am the patron saint of disappointment

Does anybody out there pray for you, prey on me
I've lost my faith in friends and Saints again, again, again
We're always running like there's something wrong
You catch your devils on the tip of your tongue
'Cause you're so headstrong, go!
Pray for you, pray for me
To a God that's given up again
Oh, motherfucker, why'd you act so precious?
Just let it go, you know you won't
'Cause you're so headstrong

Go (Bless our souls we're out of control)
Bless our souls (Bless our souls we're out of control)
Bless our souls (Bless our souls we're out of control)
Bless our souls (Bless our souls we're out of control)
Bless our souls
Falling head first down this black hole
There's no S.O.S. now
We're holding hands like we're always alone
I've been running with my devils but the devil's too slow
We keep our heads held high and our morals low
We've got friends in high places down below
(Down below, down below, down below, down below)

Does anybody out there pray for you, prey on me
I've lost my faith in friends and saints again, again, again
We're always running like there's something wrong
You catch your devils on the tip of your tongue
'Cause you're so headstrong, go!
(Bless our souls we're out of control)
(Bless our souls we're out of control)
I've found a friend in atrophy
And made a home in melancholy

Ooh