Larry made his nest high up in the autumn branches Built from nothing but high hopes and thin air He collected up some baby blast and 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 dog eat dog world Then he went to San Francisco, spent a year in out space With a sweet little San Fransiscan girl I can hear my mother wailing and a whole lot of scraping and cheers
I don't know what it is but there's definitley something going on upstairs
I want you to dig I want you to dig I want you to dig
Meanwhile Larry made up names for the ladies Like miss Boo and miss Quick He stockpiled weapons and took potshots in the air He fiested 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
Well, I don't know what it is but there's definitley something going on up there
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 increasingly neurotic and obscene I mean he, he never asked to be raised 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 on the streets of New York City In a soup queue, a dopefiend a slave, then prison, then the madhouse, then the grave Ah pour Larry But what do we really know the day that a... and who actually cares
Well, I don't know what it is but there's definitley something going on up there