We Call Upon The Author Lyrics - Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!! - Nick Cave & The Bad Seed

Oh, what we once thought we had, we didn't 

And what we have now will, will never be that way again 

So we call upon the author to explain 

Our myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets 

Weve shunned them from the greasy grind 

The poor little things they look so sad and old 

As they mount us from behind 

I ask them to desist and to refrain 

And then we call upon the author to explain 

Well, a rosary clutched in his hand 

He died with tubes up his nose 

And a cabal of angels with, with finger cymbals 

Chanted his name in code 

We shook our fists at the punishing rain 

And we called upon the author to explain 

He said, everything is messed up 'round here 

Everything is banal and jejune 

Theres a planetary conspiracy against the likes of you and me 

In this idiot constituency of the moon 

Well, he knew exactly who to blame 

And we call upon the author to explain 

Well, prolix, prolix 

Nothing a pair of scissors cant fix 

Well I, I go guruing down the street 

And young people gather 'round my feet 

And they ask me things but I dont know where to start 

They ignite the powder trail straight to my fathers heart 

And yeah, once again I call upon the author to explain 

Yeah, we call upon the author to explain 

Well, who is this great burdensome slavering dog thing 

That mediocres my every thought? 

I feel like a vacuum cleaner, a complete sucker 

Its fucked up and he is a fucker 

But what an enormous and encyclopedic brain 

I call upon the author to explain 

Yeah, we call upon the author to explain, alright, yeah 

Well, rampant discrimination 

Mass poverty, third world debt 

Infectious disease, global inequality 

And deepening socio-economic divisions 

Well, it does in your brain 

We call upon the author to explain 

Oh, now hang on, my friend Doug is tapping on the window 

Hey, Doug, how you been? 

Well, he brings me a book on holocaust poetry 

Complete with pictures and then he tells me to get ready for the rain 

And we call upon the author to explain 

Well, you know I say prolix, prolix 

Some a pair of scissors cant fix 

Bukowski was a jerk, Berryman was the best 

He wrote like wet paper mach but he went the Hemingway 

Weirdly on wings and with maximum pain 

We call upon the author to explain 

Yeah well, I call upon the author to explain 

Yeah well, down in my bolt hole I see they've published 

Another volume of unreconstructed rubbish 

Well, the waves, the waves were soldiers moving 

Well, thank you, ya thank you, thank you 

And again I call upon the author to explain 

Yeah, I call upon the author to explain 

I call upon the author to explain 

Yeah, we call upon the author to explain 

I said, prolix, prolix 

There's nothing a pair of scissors cant fix