Well, today there's no salvation
The band's packed up and gone
Left me standin' with my penny in my hand
There's a big crowd at the station
Where a blind man sings his songs
He can see what I can't understand
It's the thirty-third of August
And I am finally touchin' down
Eight days from Sunday, Lord
Saturday bound
Eight days from Sunday, Lord
And I'm Saturday bound
Once I stumbled through the darkness
Tumbled to my knees
A thousand voices screamin' through my brain
Woke up in a squad car, busted down for vagrancy
And outside my cell it sure as hell
It looks like rain
It's the thirty-third of August
And I am finally touchin' down
Eight days of Sunday
Saturday bound
[Vocal stylings.]
Now I've put my angry feelings
Under lock and chain
Hide my violent nature with a smile
Though the demons dance and sing their songs
Within my fevered brain
Not all my God-like thoughts, Lord, are defiled
And it's the thirty-third of August
I am finally touching down
Eight days from Sunday
Saturday bound
Eight days from Sunday, Lord
And I'm Saturday bound