Raising the Dead

Your old man's in the kitchen He's a smile short of laughing And the radio's a-beaming From the stars that are coughing up The change in his pockets And the shrug in his shoulders And the glove from his fingers And the love that I hold for him Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead And those old songs are twitching With the knees that are pitching And the fair world's a-grinning And the old got it spinning To the place where he lived And the room that he died in There's a new song playing on the radio that night Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead He operates on an oath preconceived To take down the pillars of our society Walking out of sadness Walking out of grief Walking out of gladness and Walking like a thief Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead I collaborate with spirit I helped it find its way back to me Where I've delivered myself on my way On my way to the old man in The kitchen on my way To the fiery broken-hearted People who all who say Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead Oh oh, raising the dead Raising the dead Raising the dead