Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! Lyrics - Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!! - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

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 

He 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-space 

With a sweet little San Franciscan girl 

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I can hear my mother wailing 

And a whole lot of scraping 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) 

Yeah, New York City, he had to get out of there 

And San Francisco, well, I don't know 

And then to LA, where he spent about a day 

He thought even the pale sky-stars were smart enough to keep well away from LA 

Meanwhile Larry made up names for the ladies 

Like Miss Boo and Miss Quick 

He stockpiled weapons and took pot shots 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 Francisco, 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 

Anyway, to cut a long story short 

Fame finally found him 

Mirrors became his torturers 

Cameras snapped him at every chance 

The women all went back to their homes 

And their husbands 

With secret smiles in the corners of their mouths 

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 of the dead 

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)