Me and Lazarus

Me and Lazarus, we shovel all the ashes out

Black bare linens blowing 'round

Back and forth and up and down

Oh, oh, whoa

Guess I had nowhere else to go

Me and Lazarus kept bailing on that riverboat

Floating by the choir rose

Bobbing in the ebb and flow

Whoa, whoa, whoa

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

Whoa, whoa, whoa

Me and Lazarus, we fiddle with a baby spoon

Fever flowing through the room

Far too long and way too soon

Oh, whoa, whoa

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

Whoa, whoa, whoa

Guess I had nowhere else to go

And I'm a liberated loser that can roam

But where my pocket was I'm peeking through a hole

A couple second chances surely would console me

Whoa, whoa, whoa