Song parody of
Ghost Song
by The Doors
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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 its quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the woolly 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 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 king's murderers
Are allowed to roam free
A thousand magicians arise in the land
Where are the feast were 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
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 its quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the woolly 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 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 king's murderers
Are allowed to roam free
A thousand magicians arise in the land
Where are the feast were 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
