Song | The Ghost Song |
Artist | The Doors |
Album | The Doors Greatest Hits |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
AwakeShake dreams from your hair | |
My pretty child, my sweet one | |
Choose the day, 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 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 darms 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. | |
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. | |
Ooh great creator of being | |
Grant us one more hour, | |
To perform our art | |
And perfect our lives. | |
We need great golden copulation’s, | |
When true kings murders | |
Are allowed to roam free, | |
A thousand musicians arise from 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 sea | |
I had a splitting headache | |
From witch the feature is maid |
AwakeShake dreams from your hair | |
My pretty child, my sweet one | |
Choose the day, 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 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 darms 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. | |
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. | |
Ooh great creator of being | |
Grant us one more hour, | |
To perform our art | |
And perfect our lives. | |
We need great golden copulation' s, | |
When true kings murders | |
Are allowed to roam free, | |
A thousand musicians arise from 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 sea | |
I had a splitting headache | |
From witch the feature is maid |
AwakeShake dreams from your hair | |
My pretty child, my sweet one | |
Choose the day, 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 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 darms 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. | |
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. | |
Ooh great creator of being | |
Grant us one more hour, | |
To perform our art | |
And perfect our lives. | |
We need great golden copulation' s, | |
When true kings murders | |
Are allowed to roam free, | |
A thousand musicians arise from 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 sea | |
I had a splitting headache | |
From witch the feature is maid |