Let's reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages
Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests
[Have you forgotten the lessons of the ancient war]
We need great golden copulations
The fathers are cackling in trees of the forest
Our mother is dead in the sea
Do you know we are being led to slaughters by placid admirals
& that fat slow generals are getting obscene on young blood
Do you know we are ruled by T.V.
The moon is dry blood beast
Guerrilla bands are rolling numbers in the next block of green vine
amassing for warfare on innocent herdsman who are just dying
O great creator of being
grant us one more hour to perform our art & perfect our lives
The moths & atheists are doubly divine & dying
We live, we die & death not ends it
Journey we more into the Nightmare Cling to life Our passion'd flower
Cling to Cunts & cocks of despair
We got our final vision by clap
Columbus groin got filled with green death
(I touched her thigh & death smiled)
We have assembled inside this ancient & insane theatre
To propagate our lust for life flee the swarming wisdom of the streets
The barns are stormed
The windows kept
& only one of all the rest
To dance & save us
With the divine mockery of words
Music inflames temperament
(When the true King's murderers are allowed to roam free a 1000 Magicians arise in the land)
Where are the feasts
we are promised
Where is the wine The New Wine (dying on the vine) resident mockery give us an hour for magic We of the purple glove We of the starling flight & velvet hour We of arabic pleasures's breed We of sundome & the night
Give us a creed
To believe
A night of lust
Give us trust in
The Night
Give of color
hundred hues
a rich mandala
for me & for you
& for your silky
pillowed house
a head, wisdom
& a bed
Troubled decree
Resident mockery
has claimed thee
We used to believe
in the good old days
We still receive
In little ways
The things of Kindness
& unsporting brow
Forget & allow
Did you know freedom exists in school books
Did you know madmen are running our prisons within a jail, within a gaol within a white free protestant maelstrom
We're perched headlong on the edge of boredom
We're reaching for death on the end of a candle
We're trying for something that's already found us
Wow, I'm sick of doubt Live in the light of certain south
Cruel bindings
The sevants have the power
dog-men & their mean women pulling poor blankets over our sailors
I'm sick of dour faces Starong at me from the T.V.
Tower, I want roses in my garden bower; dig?
Royal babies, rubies must now replace aborted
Strangers in the mud
These mutants, blood-meal for the plant that's plowed they are waiting to take us into the severed garden
Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful comes death on a stranger hour unannounced, unplanned for
like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed
Death makes angels of us all & gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws
No more money, no more fancy dress This other kingdom seems by far the best until its other jaw reveals incest & loose obedience to a vegetable law
I will not go Prefer a feast of friends To the Giant family
Compositores: Jim Morrison (ASCAP), John Paul Densmore (ASCAP), Raymond D Manzarek (ASCAP), Robert A Krieger (ASCAP)Editor: Doors-music Co (ASCAP)Publicado em 2009 (25/Ago) e lançado em 1995 (23/Mai)ECAD verificado obra #872428 e fonograma #1583987 em 10/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM