Me and Lazarus, we shovel all the ashes out
　　Black bare linens blowing around
　　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