Me and Lazarus, we shovel all the ashes out?
Black bare linens blowing 'round?
Back and forth and up and down?
oh oh woah, guess I had nowhere else to go?
Me and Lazarus kept bailing on the riverboat?
Floating by the choir rose?
Bobbing in the ebb and flow?
oh oh woah, guess I had nowhere else to go?
He's an emancipated punk and he can dance?
But he's got a hole in the pocket of his pants?
Must be a symptom of outstanding circumstances?
Woah?
Me and Lazarus, we fiddle with a baby spoon?
Fever flowing through the room?
Far too long and way too soon?
oh oh woah, guess I had nowhere else to go?
Me and Lazarus, we pick up papa's white boy blues?
Hand-me downs and Sunday shoes?
Never made the local news?
oh oh woah, guess I had nowhere else to go?
And I'm a liberated loser that can roll?
But where my pocket was I'm peeking through a hole?
A couple second-chances surely would console me?
Woah?