Well, I'll tell you a story
|
Of whiskey and mystics and men,
|
And about the believers and
|
How the whole thing began.
|
First there were women and
|
Children obeying the moon,
|
Then daylight brought wisdom
|
And fever and sickness too soon.
|
You can try to remind me
|
Instead of the other, you can.
|
You can help to insure
|
That we all insecure our command.
|
If you don't give a listen,
|
I won't try to tell your new hand.
|
This is it; can't you see
|
That we all have our ends in the band.
|
|
And if all of the teachers and
|
Preachers of wealth were arraigned,
|
We could see quite a future
|
For me in the literal sands.
|
And if all the people
|
Could claime to inspect such regrets,
|
Well, we'd have no forgiveness,
|
Forgetfullness, faithful remorse.
|
So I tell you, I tell you,
|
I tell you we must send away.
|
We must try to find a
|
New answer instead of a way.
|
|
-----------------
|
Whiskey, Mystics And Men
|
| The Doors |