Me and Lazarus, we shovel all the ashes out
Black bare linens blowing 'round
Back and forth and up and downOh, oh, whoa
Guess I had nowhere else to goMe and Lazarus kept bailing on that riverboat
Floating by the choir rose
Bobbing in the ebb and flowWhoa, whoa, whoa
Guess I had nowhere else to goHe'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 circumstancesWhoa, whoa, whoaMe and Lazarus, we fiddle with a baby spoon
Fever flowing through the room
Far too long and way too soonOh, whoa, whoa
Guess I had nowhere else to goMe and Lazarus, we pick up papa's white boy blues
Hand-me-downs and Sunday shoes
Never made the local newsWhoa, whoa, whoa
Guess I had nowhere else to goAnd 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 meWhoa, whoa, whoa
Songwriters
BEAM, SAMUEL ERVINPublished by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.