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the great confessor Verse 2 Edward the unlikely saint, unlikely as me. You used to say he was lucky, and a part absentee Cold as a coffin in and maybe cold
Hadrada, King of Norway claimant to the English throne by the death of Edward the Confessor Hadrada’s life and his death the Battle of Stamford
of prophets== Maria the Queen The Queen of all queens== Maria the Queen The Queen of all saints== Maria the Queen The Queen of confessors== Maria the Queen
I'm angry I am bitter Til the day I'm in the ground Bare your soul to the confessor Tell him all your sins Forty acts of penitence Then do it all again
I’m gonna tell you the worst things I’ve ever done Cuz I like writing letters to the most averse confessors And I wanna sing a verse you’ve never
No Saints Forgiven I need a confessor Someone to hear my sin I ain't learned my lesson I wanna' do it again I won't pay no penance To get clean my
Ramparts of chalk Edward the Confessor Becket and Boudicca Churchill, Purcell, Cromwell Everyone from Florence Nightingale to Septimus Severus
mans work are felled by the devils craft Damn the confessor, his name is barbed With a war of sins that drip on heavens tongue A saint that starts
a big word I learned in|Skinner's Pond school, Prince Edward Island|Didn't really mean that you know, but I had to say it anyhow|Yeah he says, 'Don't you
born (reborn) to the family of Ogar, to parents Edward Ogar and Virginia Nwaolisa also known as Virginia Ogar. He took after his father as a club DJ
born (reborn) to the family of Ogar, to parents Edward Ogar and Virginia Nwaolisa also known as Virginia Ogar. He took after his father as a club DJ
Yeah, and I be moon gazing He wanted the smoke, we give him the smoke, yeah, we just traded like vape Ice on my wrist, and I'm smellin' like Saint
I took a leap of faith and fortune feeling like a saint but Fell into a tortured fainted state Fly against the wall but fighting with my fate against
holy Confessors, All holy Hermits, all holy virgins, All ye Saints of God, pray for him.
St. Agnes - Pray for us All holy bishops and confessors - Pray for us All you holy martyrs of the Lord - Pray for us All you doctors of the Church -
locked in my attic It's so wack, that some people sometimes pretend I'm a saint Cuz I ain't, if you told my confessor that he would faint Yeah I'm a wicked
to Him in the storm in the middle of my battles, a song of joy to the Lord. I recall being concerned with super saints thinkin' my songs weren't holy
get what we deserve In the next life We'll take a share of Prince Edward's Gold Saint John, he is calling But it's getting pretty cold They pick up our
Of Martyrs and Confessors, in the name Of holy Monks and Hermits, in the name Of holy virgins, and all Saints of God. Both men and women, go! Go on thy
love to applaud Are the faithful saints that endure You could never stop 'em You got a better chance winning The Tour de France With no legs against
odore florum Per cancellos sanctorum Emicans Deo O culmen in clavibus celi Quod propter perspicuam vitam Mundum vendidisti Hoc certamen, alme confessor
times two She get slutty 'round me but she's a saint around you And you know we turning up if it's Yvng Vain around you Aye We gon' spin again let off
Edward Jones In the middle of the night Wake 'em up wit wit red saint It ain't no bitch in my blood Nigga, it's nuttin' but thug It ain't no bitch in my
me to write a list You're all I need - forget Saint Nick Never would thought that You're willing to call back Attention: you caught that, oh no We
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