David Bowie - Please Mr. Gravedigger lyrics
[David Bowie - Please Mr. Gravedigger lyrics]
There's a little churchyard just
Along the way
It used to be Lambeth's finest array
Of tombstones, epitaphs, wreaths, flowers
All that jazz
Till the war come along and someone
Dropped a bomb on the lot
And in this little yard
There's a little old man
With a little shovel in his little bitty hand
He seems to spend all his days
Puffing fags and digging graves
He hates the reverend vicar and he
Lives all alone in his home
"Ah-choo, excuse me"
Please Mr gravedigger, don't feel ashamed
As you dig little holes for
The dead and the maimed
Please Mr gravedigger, I couldn't care
If you found a golden locket
Full of some girl's hair
And you put it in your pocket
"God, it's pouring down"
Her mother doesn't know about
Your sentimental joy
She thinks it's down below with
The rest of her toys
And Ma wouldn't understand, so I won't tell
So keep your golden locket all safely
Hid away in your pocket
Yes, Mr gD, you see me every day
Say "ah-choo!"
Standing in the same spot by a certain grave
Mary-Ann was only 10 and full of
Life and oh so gay and I was the wicked man
Who took her life away very selfish, oh God
No, Mr gD, you won't tell
And just to make sure that
You keep it to yourself
I've started digging holes, my friend
And this one here's for you
"Lifted our girl
She apparently doesn't know of it
Hello misses, thought she'd be a little girl
Bloody obscene
(crikey) catch pneumonia or something
In this rain"
Along the way
It used to be Lambeth's finest array
Of tombstones, epitaphs, wreaths, flowers
All that jazz
Till the war come along and someone
Dropped a bomb on the lot
And in this little yard
There's a little old man
With a little shovel in his little bitty hand
He seems to spend all his days
Puffing fags and digging graves
He hates the reverend vicar and he
Lives all alone in his home
"Ah-choo, excuse me"
Please Mr gravedigger, don't feel ashamed
As you dig little holes for
The dead and the maimed
Please Mr gravedigger, I couldn't care
If you found a golden locket
Full of some girl's hair
And you put it in your pocket
"God, it's pouring down"
Her mother doesn't know about
Your sentimental joy
She thinks it's down below with
The rest of her toys
And Ma wouldn't understand, so I won't tell
So keep your golden locket all safely
Hid away in your pocket
Yes, Mr gD, you see me every day
Say "ah-choo!"
Standing in the same spot by a certain grave
Mary-Ann was only 10 and full of
Life and oh so gay and I was the wicked man
Who took her life away very selfish, oh God
No, Mr gD, you won't tell
And just to make sure that
You keep it to yourself
I've started digging holes, my friend
And this one here's for you
"Lifted our girl
She apparently doesn't know of it
Hello misses, thought she'd be a little girl
Bloody obscene
(crikey) catch pneumonia or something
In this rain"