From the album "The Key to a Happy Life - Disc 2"
It was sometime in October back in nineteen sixty-nine.
Wandering around old London town with a girl named Caroline.
Winding up in Trafalgar Square joking about pigeon pie,
Until the heaven's opened up but the National Gallery was dry.
And there was Saint Sebastian hanging in a gilded frame
But all that I could think about; was it's good to be out of the rain.
His body was riddled with arrows, oh what an awful sight.
Martyred for his faith in the Lord and only doing what was right.
'He looks a little bit like you,' my dear companion said.
'Except for all his bloody wounds and of course him being quite dead.'
Just then a passing old stranger man said, 'I'm sorry, you've got it all wrong.
The saint was saved by a woman's touch, but sadly not for long.'
The holy fool stood on the steps of Rome as the Emperor rode by,
Decried him for his wicked ways, and again was condemned to die.'
The Roman soldiers captured him and clubbed him to the floor.
They beat the holy crap out of him till he could rise no more.
Martyred twice, or so they say, but ne'er his faith did shake.
Then off we went to the restaurant for coffee and fruit cake.
Now as we left the gallery oh Caroline bought me a card.
Saying even saints must suffer much, in this unjust world so hard.
And if my leaving cause distress, remember this by me,
There's always someone much worse off than you could ever be.
Just like Saint Sebastian, hanging in a gilded frame,
And then I swear he winked at me saying, 'Ain't it a bloody shame.
Poor old Saint Sebastian, hanging in a gilded frame
All that I could think about was oh no, it's raining again.