Is everybody in? Is everybody in? Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin. WAKE UP! You can't remember where it was had this dream stopped?
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 in a cool jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by it's quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the wooly 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.
Me and my -ah- mother and father - and a
grandmother and a grandfather - were driving through
the desert, at dawn, and a truck load of Indian
workers had either hit another car, or just - I don't
know what happened - but there were Indians scattered
all over the highway, bleeding to death.
So the car pulls up and stops. That was the first time
I tasted fear. I musta' been about four - like a child is
like a flower, his head is just floating in the
The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking
back - is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead
Indians...maybe one or two of 'em...were just
running around freaking out, and just leaped into my
soul. And they're still in there.
Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.
Blood in the streets in the town of New Haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of Venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of Phantastic L.A.
Blood screams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth if a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Blood on the rise, it's following me.
Indian, Indian what did you die for?
Indian says, nothing at all.
Can we resolve the past
Lurking jaws, joints of time?
To come of age in a dry place
Holes and caves.
My friend drove and hour each day from the mountains
The bus gives you a hard-on with books in your lap
Someone shot the bird in the afternoon dance show
They gave out free records to the best couple
Spades dance best, from the hip.
My gang will get you
Scenes of rape in the arroyo
Seduction in cars, abandoned buildings
Fights at the food stand
Open shirts and raised collars
Bright sculptured hair.
Hey man, you want girls, pills, grass? C'mon...
I show you good time.
This place has everything. C'mon...
I show you.
Angels and sailors rich girls backyard fences tents Dreams watching each other narrowly soft luxuriant cars Girls in garages, stripped out to get liquor and clothes half gallons of wine and six-packs of beer Jumped, humped, born to suffer made to undress in the wilderness.
I will never treat you mean
Never start no kind of scene
I'll tell you every place and person that I've been.
Always a playground instructor, never a killer
Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame or over
He manouvered 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 rie
Story of her boyfriend, of teenage stoned death games
Handsome lad, dead in a car
I love you
Peace on earth
Will you die for me?
I'll always be true
Never go out, sneaking out on you, babe
If you'll only show me Far Arden again.
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.
I'll tell you this...
No eternal reward will forgive us now
For wasting the dawn.
Back in those days everything was simpler and more confused
One summer night, going to the pier
I ran into two young girls
The blonde one was called Freedom
The dark one, Enterprise
We talked and they told me this story
Now listen to this...
I'll tell you about Texas radio and the big beat
Soft driven, slow and mad
Like some new language
Reaching your head with the cold, sudden fury of a divine messenger
Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of god
Wandering, wandering in hopless night
Out here in the perimeter there are no stars
Out here we is stoned
The movie will begin in five moments
The mindless voice announced
All those unseated will await the next show.
We filed slowly, languidly into the hall
The auditorium was vast and silent
As we seated and were darkened, the voice continued.
The program for this evening is not new
You've seen this entertainment through and through
You've seen your birth your life and death
you might recall all of the rest
Did you have a good world when you died?
Enough to base a movie on?.
I'm getting out of here Where are you going? To the other side of morning Please don't chase the clouds, pagodas
Her cunt gripped him like a warm, friendly hand.
It's alright, all your friends are here When can I meet them? After you've eaten I'm not hungry Uh, we meant beaten
Silver stream, silvery scream
Oooooh, impossible concentration.
Here come the Comedians
look at them smile
Watch them dance an Indian mile
Look at them gesture
So to gesture everyone
Words be quick
Words resemble walking sticks
Plant them they will grow
Watch them waver so
I'll always be a word man
Better then a bird man
What was that?
I don't know
Sounds like guns...thunder.
(Roadhouse Blues cuts in here with Jim doing a little audience participation section at the end.)
...Alright! Alright! Alright!
Hey, listen! Listen! Listen, man! listen, man!
I don't know how many you people believe in astrology...
Yeah, that's right...that's right, baby, I...I am a
The most philosophical of all the signs
But anyway, I don't believe in it
I think it's a bunch of bullshit, myself
But I tell you this, man, I tell you this
I don't know what's gonna happen, man, but I wanna have
my kicks before the whole shithouse goes up in flames
The World on Fire...Taxi from Africa...The Grand Hotel... He was drunk a big party last night back going back in all directions sleeping these insane hours I'll never wake up in a good mood again I'm sick of these stinky boots
How to aquire death in the morning show
TV death which the child absorbs
Deathwell mystery which makes me write
Slow train, the death of my cock gives life
Forgive the poor old people who gave us entry
Taught us god in the child's praye in the night
Ancient wise satyr
Sing your ode to my cock
Caress it's lament
Stiffen and guide us, we frozen
The knowledge of cancer
To speak to the heart
And give the great gift
Words Power Trance
this stable friend and the beast of his zoo
Wild haired chicks
Women flowering in their summit
Monsters of skin
Each color connects
to create the boat
which rocks the race
Could any hell be more horrible
I pressed her thigh and death smiled
death, old friend
death and my cock are the world
I can forgive my injuries in the name of
Wisdom Luxury Romance
Sentence upon sentence
Words are the healing lament
For the death of my cock's spirit
Has no meaning in the soft fire
Words got me the wound and will get me well
I you believe it
All join now and lament the death of my cock
A tounge of knowledge in the feathered night
Boys get crazy in the head and suffer
I sacrifice my cock on the alter of silence
Hi. How you doin'? I just got back into town L.A.
I was out on the desert for awhile
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this world we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirming like a toad
take a long holiday
Let your children play
If you give this man a ride
Sweet family will die
Killer on the road
A head, wisdom
And a bed
has claimed thee
We used to believe
In the good old days
We still receive in
The Things of Kindness
An unsporting brow
Forget and allow
Did you know freedom exists
in a school book
Did you know madmen are
roaming our prison
within a jail, within a gaol
within a white free protestant
We're perched headlong
on the edge of boredom
We're trying for something
That's already found us.
We can invent a Kingdom of our own
grand purple thrones, those chairs of lust
and love we must, in beds or rust
Steel doors lock in prosoner's screams
amd musak, AM, rocks their dreams
No black men's pride to hoist the beams
while mocking angels sift what seems
To be a collage of magazine dust
Scratched on foreheads of walls of trust
This is just jail for those who must
get up in the morning and fight for such
while weeping maidens
show-off penury and pout
ravings for a mad
Wow, I'm sick of doubt
Live in the light of certain
The servants have the power
dog-men and their mean women
pulling poor blankets over
(And where were you in our lean hour)
Milking your moustache
or grinding a flower?
I'm sick of these dour faces
Staring at me from the TV
Tower, I want roses in
my garden bower; dig?
Royal babies, rubies
must now replace aborted
Strangers in the mud
These mutants, blood-meal
for the plant that's plowed.
They are waiting to take us into
the severed garden.
Do you know how pale and wanton thrillful
comes death on a strange hour
unannounced, unplanned for
like a scaring over-friendly guest you've
brought to bed.
Death makes angels of us all
and gives us wings
where we had shoulders
smooth as raven's
No more money, no more fancy dress
This other kingdom seems by far the best
until it's other jaw reveals incest
and loose obedience to a vegetable law.
I will not go
Prefer a Feast of Friends
To the Giant Family.