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lirik lagu ned rorem - lady lazarus

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i have done it again
one year in every ten
i manage it–

a sort of walking miracle, my skin
bright as a n-z- lampshade
my right foot

a paperweight
my face a featureless, fine
jew linen

peel off the napkin
o my enemy
do i terrify?–

the nose, the eye pits, the full set of t–th?
the sour breath
will vanish in a day

soon, soon the flesh
the grave cave ate will be
at home on me

and i a smiling woman
i am only thirty
and like the cat i have nine times to die

this is number three
what a trash
to annihilate each decade

what a million filaments
the peanut-crunching crowd
shoves in to see

them unwrap me hand and foot–
the big strip tease
gentlemen, ladies

these are my hands
my knees
i may be skin and bone

nevertheless, i am the same, identical woman
the first time it happened i was ten
it was an accident

the second time i meant
to last it out and not come back at all
i rocked shut

as a seash-ll
they had to call and call
and pick the worms off me like sticky pearls

dying
is an art, like everything else
i do it exceptionally well

i do it so it feels like h-ll
i do it so it feels real
i guess you could say i’ve a call

it’s easy enough to do it in a cell
it’s easy enough to do it and stay put
it’s the theatrical

comeback in broad day
to the same place, the same face, the same brute
amused shout:

‘a miracle!’
that knocks me out
there is a charge

for the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
for the hearing of my heart–
it really goes

and there is a charge, a very large charge
for a word or a touch
or a bit of blood

or a piece of my hair or my clothes
so, so, herr doktor
so, herr enemy

i am your opus
i am your valuable
the pure gold baby

that melts to a shriek
i turn and burn
do not think i underestimate your great concern

ash, ash–
you poke and stir
flesh, bone, there is nothing there–

a cake of soap
a wedding ring
a gold filling

herr god, herr lucifer
beware
beware

out of the ash
i rise with my red hair
and i eat men like air


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