(Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, back in that hole)
Larry made his nest up in the autumn branches
Built from nothing but high hopes and thin air
Collected up some baby blasted mothers
They took their chances and for a while
They lived quite happily up there
They came from New York City Man
But he couldn't take the pace
He thought it was like a dog eat dog world
But he went to San Francisco
Spent a year in outer-s***e
With a sweet little San Franciscan girl
I can hear my mother whailing
And a whole lot of scrapping of chairs
I don't know what it is, but there's definitely something going on upstairs
(Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, back in that hole)
(I want you to dig
I want you to dig)
Meanwhile Larry made up names for the ladies
Like Ms Boo and Ms Quick
He stockpiled weapons and took potshots in the air
He feasted on their lovely bodies like a lunatic
And wrapped himself up in their soft yellow hair
I can hear chants and incantations
And some guy is mentioning me in his prayers
I don't know what it is, but there's definitely something going on upstairs
(Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, back in that hole)
(I want you to dig
I want you to dig
I want you to dig)
Well New York City Man,
San Franciso, LA, I don't know
But Larry grew increasing neurotic and obscene
I mean: he, he never asked to be raised up from the tomb
I mean: no one ever actually asked him to forsake his dreams
He ended up, like so many of them do, back in the streets of New York City
In a soup queue
A dope fiend
A slave
Then prison
Then the mad house
Then the grave
Oh poor Larry
But what do we really know the day of the
And who actually cares
Well I don't know what it is, but there's definitely something going on upstairs
(Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, back in that hole)
(I want you to dig
I want you to dig
I want you to dig)
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, back in that hole)
Larry made his nest up in the autumn branches
Built from nothing but high hopes and thin air
Collected up some baby blasted mothers
They took their chances and for a while
They lived quite happily up there
They came from New York City Man
But he couldn't take the pace
He thought it was like a dog eat dog world
But he went to San Francisco
Spent a year in outer-s***e
With a sweet little San Franciscan girl
I can hear my mother whailing
And a whole lot of scrapping of chairs
I don't know what it is, but there's definitely something going on upstairs
(Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, back in that hole)
(I want you to dig
I want you to dig)
Meanwhile Larry made up names for the ladies
Like Ms Boo and Ms Quick
He stockpiled weapons and took potshots in the air
He feasted on their lovely bodies like a lunatic
And wrapped himself up in their soft yellow hair
I can hear chants and incantations
And some guy is mentioning me in his prayers
I don't know what it is, but there's definitely something going on upstairs
(Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, back in that hole)
(I want you to dig
I want you to dig
I want you to dig)
Well New York City Man,
San Franciso, LA, I don't know
But Larry grew increasing neurotic and obscene
I mean: he, he never asked to be raised up from the tomb
I mean: no one ever actually asked him to forsake his dreams
He ended up, like so many of them do, back in the streets of New York City
In a soup queue
A dope fiend
A slave
Then prison
Then the mad house
Then the grave
Oh poor Larry
But what do we really know the day of the
And who actually cares
Well I don't know what it is, but there's definitely something going on upstairs
(Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, Lazarus
Dig Yourself, back in that hole)
(I want you to dig
I want you to dig
I want you to dig)