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 in a cool 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 in 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. Oh 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 seaI, had a splitting headache from which the future's made.
Pero pasar pasa , incluso para mí .
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta The Doors. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta The Doors. Mostrar todas las entradas
martes, 16 de marzo de 2010
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 in a cool 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 in 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. Oh 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 seaI, had a splitting headache from which the future's made.
domingo, 26 de julio de 2009
Once i had a little game, I liked to crawl back in my brain. I think you know the game I mean, I mean the game called 'go insane'. Now you should try this little game; just close your eyes, forget your name, forget the world, forget the people and we'll erect a different steeple. This little game is fun to do, just close your eyes, no way to lose. And i'm right here, i'm going too. Release control, we're breaking through.domingo, 19 de julio de 2009
Unhappy girl, left all alone Playing solitaire
Playing warden to your soul
You are locked in a prison
Of your own devise
And you can't believe
What it does to me
To see you
Crying
Unhappy girl
Tear your web away
Saw threw all your bars
Melt your cell today
You are caught in a prison
Of your own devise
Unhappy girl
Fly fast away
Don't miss your chance
To swim in mystery
You are dying in a prison
Of your own devise
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)
