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"James Douglas Morrison"
    название:

    Celebration Of The Lizard


    автор:

    James Douglas Morrison


    жанры: poetry
    рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5.1 / 1126 просмотров
    Lions in the street and roaming
    Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming
    beast caged in the heart of a city
    The body of his mother
    Rotting in the summer ground
    He fled the town
    
    He went down South and crossed the border
    Left the chaos and disorder
    Back there over his shoulder
    
    One morning he awoke in a green hotel
    With a strange creature groaning beside him
    Sweat oozed from its shiny skin
    
    Is everybody in?
    The ceremony is about to begin
    
    Wake up!
    You can't remember where it was
    Had this dream stopped?
    
    The snake was pale gold
    Glazed and shrunken
    We were afraid to touch it
    The sheets were hot dead prisons
    And she was beside me
    Old, she's not, young
    Her dark red hair
    Her white soft skin
    
    Now, run to the mirror in the bathroom
    Look!
    I can't live thru each slow century of her moving
    I let my cheek slide down
    The cool smooth tile
    Feel the good cold stinging blood
    The smooth hissing snakes of rain 
    
    Once I had, a little game
    I liked to crawl back into 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 there I'm going too
    Release control we're breaking thru
    
    Way back deep into the brain
    Back where there's never any pain
    And the rain falls gently on the town
    And over the heads of all of us
    And in the labyrinth of streams
    Beneath, the quiet unearthly presence of
    Nervous hill dwellers in the gentle hills around
    Reptiles abounding
    Fossils, caves, cool air heights
    
    Each house repeats a mold
    Windows rolled
    Beast car locked in against morning
    All now sleeping
    Rugs silent, mirrors vacant
    Dust blind under the beds of lawful couples
    Wound in sheets
    And daughters, smug
    With [bad word] eyes in their nipples
    
    Wait
    There's been a slaughter here
    
    (Don't stop to speak or look around
    Your gloves and fan are on the ground
    We're getting out of town
    We're going on the run
    And you're the one I want to come)
    
    Not to touch the earth
    Not to see the sun
    Nothing left to do, but
    Run, run, run
    Let's run
    
    House upon the hill
    Moon is lying still
    Shadows of the trees
    Witnessing the wild breeze
    C'mon baby run with me
    Let's run
    
    Run with me
    Run with me
    Run with me
    Let's run
    
    The mansion is warm, at the top of the hill
    Rich are the rooms and the comforts there
    Red are the arms of luxuriant chairs
    And you won't know a thing till you get inside
    
    Dead president's corpse in the driver's car
    The engine runs on glue and tar
    C'mon along, we're not going very far
    To the East to meet the Czar
    
    Some outlaws lived by the side of the lake
    The minister's daughter's in love with the snake
    Who lives in a well by the side of the road
    Wake up, girl! We're almost home
    
    Sun, sun, sun
    Burn, burn, burn
    Soon, soon, soon
    Moon, moon, moon
    I will get you
    Soon!
    Soon!
    Soon!
    
    Let the carnival bells ring
    Let the serpent sing
    Let everything
    
    We came down
    The rivers and highways
    We came down from
    Forests and falls
    
    We came down from
    Carson and Springfield
    We came down from
    Phoenix enthralled
    And I can tell you
    The names of the Kingdom
    I can tell you
    The things that you know
    Listening for a fistful of silence
    Climbing valleys into the shade
    
    'I am the Lizard King
    I can do anything
    I can make the earth stop in its tracks
    I made the blue cars go away
    
    For seven years I dwelt
    In the loose palace of exile
    Playing strange games
    With the girls of the island...

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    Это интересно: Джим Мо́ррисон (англ. Jim Morrison; полное имя Джеймс Ду́глас Мо́ррисон, англ. James Douglas Morrison; 8 декабря 1943, Мельбурн, Флорида — 3 июля 1971, Париж) — американский певец, поэт, автор песен, лидер и вокалист группы The Doors.
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