Both as a standalone and as part of the DSOTS album, you can take this lyric as read. As a matter of public record, Jourgensen's drug intake was legendary even in the 1980s. By the late 90s, in his own words, he was grappling with massive addiction issues and had lost almost everything: friends, spouse, money and had nearly died more than once. "Dark Side of the Spoon" is a both funny & sad title for an album made by a musical genius who was losing the plot; and this song is a message to his fans & friends saying he knows it. It's painful to listen to so I'm glad the "Keith Richards of industrial metals" wised up and cleaned up. Well done sir.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is with the greatest pleasure that I present: Niggy Tardust.
NiggyTardust: Grippo King, philosopher, and artist.
Downright to the marrow, he’s the arrow through the heartless.
Sunlight in the afternoon, his shadow travels furthest.
Woven through the heart of doom, he’s bursting through the surface. Hardly nervous, suffice to say, he understands his purpose:
Threshold King of everything, a comical absurdist.
Sometimes when he talks he sings, yet keeps his high notes wordless.
Sing along when Niggy sings. Without you he’d be worthless, homeless, Earth-less.
Venus Hottentot, up in the circus.
Freak Show! Here him speak so properly, ‘cause every word is measured against meaning.
Probably scheming to unlearn us.
Don’t you call him by his name! White people call him ‘Curtis’.
When I say Niggy, you say nuthin. Niggy.
Niggy.
When I say Niggy, you say nuthin. Niggy.
“Nuthin”.
Shut up.
(X2)
“Put your mama on the phone”. You can’t say that, girl, Niggy’s grown.
What your daddy gonna do? He can’t deny what he knows true.
What the preacher gonna say? Preacher can’t shit, girl, the preacher’s gay.
What your granny gonna do? She can’t deny the truth.
Hey! NiggyTardust, here to stay!
Paint him on your lunchbox or your thermos, for a fee.
You might win the chance to hang with Niggy for a day!
Side effects may include simply doing what you say.
Hey! NiggyTardust, no guitar.
Ghetto Gothic millionaire. A super-duper star!
Side effects may include simply being who you are. you are yourself, my darling dear, and where never a niggar.
When I say Niggy, you say nuthin. Niggy.
Niggy.
When I say Niggy, you say nuthin. Niggy.
“Nuthin”.
Shut up.
(X2)
So what y’all Niggas wanna do?
I’m standing at the Pearly Gates so you can run and get your crew.
I’m knockin once then I’m bustin’ through, with some gold Diadoras and a shirt that reads, “Do unto who?”.
What y’all Niggas wanna do?
Elevate the race or love these other mutherfuckers too?
The choice is yours, which means it’s up to you.
But how can I love myself if I can’t love you?
NiggyTardust…
NiggyTardust: Grippo King, philosopher, and artist.
Downright to the marrow, he’s the arrow through the heartless.
Sunlight in the afternoon, his shadow travels furthest.
Woven through the heart of doom, he’s bursting through the surface. Hardly nervous, suffice to say, he understands his purpose:
Threshold King of everything, a comical absurdist.
Sometimes when he talks he sings, yet keeps his high notes wordless.
Sing along when Niggy sings. Without you he’d be worthless, homeless, Earth-less.
Venus Hottentot, up in the circus.
Freak Show! Here him speak so properly, ‘cause every word is measured against meaning.
Probably scheming to unlearn us.
Don’t you call him by his name! White people call him ‘Curtis’.
When I say Niggy, you say nuthin. Niggy.
Niggy.
When I say Niggy, you say nuthin. Niggy.
“Nuthin”.
Shut up.
(X2)
“Put your mama on the phone”. You can’t say that, girl, Niggy’s grown.
What your daddy gonna do? He can’t deny what he knows true.
What the preacher gonna say? Preacher can’t shit, girl, the preacher’s gay.
What your granny gonna do? She can’t deny the truth.
Hey! NiggyTardust, here to stay!
Paint him on your lunchbox or your thermos, for a fee.
You might win the chance to hang with Niggy for a day!
Side effects may include simply doing what you say.
Hey! NiggyTardust, no guitar.
Ghetto Gothic millionaire. A super-duper star!
Side effects may include simply being who you are. you are yourself, my darling dear, and where never a niggar.
When I say Niggy, you say nuthin. Niggy.
Niggy.
When I say Niggy, you say nuthin. Niggy.
“Nuthin”.
Shut up.
(X2)
So what y’all Niggas wanna do?
I’m standing at the Pearly Gates so you can run and get your crew.
I’m knockin once then I’m bustin’ through, with some gold Diadoras and a shirt that reads, “Do unto who?”.
What y’all Niggas wanna do?
Elevate the race or love these other mutherfuckers too?
The choice is yours, which means it’s up to you.
But how can I love myself if I can’t love you?
NiggyTardust…
Lyrics submitted by chainhomelow
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