Awake.
|
Shake dreams from your hair
|
my pretty child, my sweet one.
|
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
|
the day's divinity
|
First thing you see.
|
|
A vast radiant beach and cooled jeweled moon
|
Couples naked race down by it's quiet side
|
And we laugh like soft, mad children
|
Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
|
The music and voices are all around us.
|
|
Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
|
the time has come again
|
choose now, they croon
|
beneath the moon
|
beside an ancient lake
|
|
Enter again the sweet forest
|
Enter the hot dream
|
Come with us
|
everything is broken up and dances.
|
|
Indians scattered,
|
On dawn's highway bleeding
|
Ghosts crowd the young child’s,
|
Fragile eggshell mind
|
|
We have assembled inside,
|
This ancient and insane theater
|
To propagate our lust for life,
|
And flee the swarming wisdom of the streets.
|
|
The barns have stormed
|
The windows kept,
|
And only one of all the rest
|
To dance and save us
|
From the divine mockery of words,
|
Music inflames temperament.
|
|
Ooh great creator of being
|
Grant us one more hour,
|
To perform our art
|
And perfect our lives.
|
|
We need great golden copulations,
|
|
When the true kings murderers
|
Are allowed to roam free,
|
A thousand magicians arise in the land
|
Where are the feast we are promised?
|
|
One more thing
|
|
Thank you oh lord
|
For the white blind light
|
Thank you oh lord
|
For the white blind light
|
|
A city rises from the sea
|
I had a splitting headache
|
From which the future's made
|
|
-----------------
|
THE GHOST SONG
|
| The Doors |
