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#107 - Last of the Mohican in Croatia
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.
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 our life,
And flee the swarming wisdom of the streets.
By Doors
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.
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 our life,
And flee the swarming wisdom of the streets.
By Doors
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SadisticoShy
Post je objavljen 15.11.2006. u 13:00 sati.