|
|
|
|
Download Doors - Box Set CD3 - The Future Ain`t What It Used To Be
|
Similar Albums
Some "Doors" lyrics
To Come Of Age / Black Polished Chrome
Can we resolve the past Lurking jaws, joints of time? The Base To come of age in a dry place Holes and caves.
The music was new black polished chrome And came over the summer like liquid night. The DJ's took pills to stay awake and play for seven days The general's son had a sister They went down to see him They went to the studio And someone knew him Someone knew the TV showman He came to our homeroom party and played records And when he left in the hot noon sun and walked to his car We saw the chooks had written F~U~C~K on his windshield He wiped it off with a white rag and smiling cooly drove away He's rich. Got a big car.
My friend drove and hour each day from the mountains The bus gives you a hardon with books in your lap We shot the bird with the black MP
My gang will get you Scenes of rape in the arroyo Seductions in cars, abandoned buildings Fights at the food stand The dust The shoes Open shirts and raised collars Bright sculptured hair.
Spades dance best from the hip
Someone shot the bird in the afternoon dance show They gave out free records to the best couple
Always a playground instructor, never a killer Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame or over He manuevered two girls into his hotel room One a friend, the other, the young one, a newer stranger Vaguely Mexican or Puerto Rican Poor boys thighs and buttock scarred by a father's belt She's trying to rise Story of her boyfriend, of teenage stoned death games Handsome lad, dead in a car Confusion No connections Come 'ere I love you Peace on earth Will you die for me? Eat me This way The end
I'm surprised you could get it up He whips her lightly, sardonically, with belt Haven't I been through enough? she asks Now dressed and leaving The Spanish girl begins to bleed She says her period It's Catholic heaven I have an ancient Indian crucifix around my neck My chest is hard and brown Lying on stained, wretched sheets with a bleeding virgin We could plan a murder Or start a religion.
| 
The Soft Parade
When I was back there in seminary school There was a person there Who put forth the proposition That you can petition the Lord with prayer Petition the lord with prayer Petition the lord with prayer You cannot petition the lord with prayer! Can you give me sanctuary I must find a place to hide A place for me to hide Can you find me soft asylum I can't make it anymore The Man is at the door Peppermint, miniskirts, chocolate candy Champion sax and a girl named Sandy There's only four ways to get unraveled One is to sleep and the other is travel, da da One is a bandit up in the hills One is to love your neighbor 'till His wife gets home Catacombs Nursery bones Winter women Growing stones Carrying babies To the river Streets and shoes Avenues Leather riders Selling news The monk bought lunch Ha ha, he bought a little Yes, he did Woo! This is the best part of the trip This is the trip, the best part I really like What'd he say? Yeah! Yeah, right! Pretty good, huh Huh! Yeah, I'm proud to be a part of this number Successful hills are here to stay Everything must be this way Gentle streets where people play Welcome to the Soft Parade All our lives we sweat and save Building for a shallow grave Must be something else we say Somehow to defend this place Everything must be this way Everything must be this way, yeah The Soft Parade has now begun Listen to the engines hum People out to have some fun A cobra on my left Leopard on my right, yeah The deer woman in a silk dress Girls with beads around their necks Kiss the hunter of the green vest Who has wrestled before With lions in the night Out of sight! The lights are getting brighter The radio is moaning Calling to the dogs There are still a few animals Left out in the yard But it's getting harder To describe sailors To the underfed Tropic corridor Tropic treasure What got us this far To this mild equator? We need someone or something new Something else to get us through, yeah, c'mon Callin' on the dogs Callin' on the dogs Oh, it's gettin' harder Callin' on the dogs Callin' in the dogs Callin' all the dogs Callin' on the gods You gotta meet me Too late, baby Slay a few animals At the crossroads Too late All in the yard But it's gettin' harder By the crossroads You gotta meet me Oh, we're goin', we're goin great At the edge of town Tropic corridor Tropic treasure Havin' a good time Got to come along What got us this far To this mild equator? Outskirts of the city You and I We need someone new Somethin' new Somethin' else to get us through Better bring your gun Better bring your gun Tropic corridor Tropic treasure We're gonna ride and have some fun When all else fails We can whip the horse's eyes And make them sleep And cry
|
|
|
|