Hey lookee here the book of saintsnWhat they are is what you ain'tnYou go on all cripple-fistednYou know you're strong enough to lift thisnnHow's it feel to play Saint Joan?nNothing of what she did, poor burnt bonenI will not martyr, I will not martyrnI will hit you hardernnI am made of iron, I am maid and bleedernKeep back, keep back a hundred metresnnThey saw Saint Agnes being goodnSo on the road they went to kill hernOne strike of his sword killed that little girlnShe cried, I belong to my saviournnI am made of iron, I am maid and bleedernKeep back, keep back a hundred metresnnI will not martyr, I will not martyrnI will live long and happy on your bread and waternI will not martyr, I will not martyrnI made you monsters, I can make you hardernnWhat if you missed it, what if you missed it?nShould I have jumped and you resisted?nnHow's it feel to play Saint Claire?nOur bodies are not made of brassnThey're made of thread and airnAnd blood comes out in pints and litresnKeep your paws off filthy cheatersnIt takes two men to hold me down, it takes three men to hold me down, it takes five men to hold me downnIt takes two men to hold me down, it takes nine men to hold me down, it takes twelve men to hold me downnWith a broken bone and a gashed-up crownnnI am made of iron, I am maid and bleedernDon't you know how fast I can run a hundred metresnnI will not martyr, I will not martyrnI will live long and happy on your blood and waternI will not martyr, I will not martyrnI miss you all like I miss my daughternI will not martyr, I will not martyrnI made you monsters, I can make you hardernnKeep your distance, keep your distancenTry to show respect, to show resistancenKeep your distance, keep your distancenTry to show respect, to show resistance