The Doors
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An American Prayer/ Hour For Magic/ Freedom Exists/ A Feast Of Friends

The Doors


Do you know the warm progress
under the stars?

Do you know we exist?


Have you forgotten the keys
to the kingdom


Have you been borne yet
& are you alive?


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, John Paul Densmore, Robert A Krieger, Raymond D Manzarek
ECAD: Obra #872428 Fonograma #1583987

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