<h1>An American Prayer</h1>

Do you know the warm progress under the stars?
Do you know we exist?
Have you forgotten the keys to the kingdom?
Have you been born yet, and are you alive?

Let's reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages
Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests
Have you forgotten the lessons of the ancient war?

We need great golden copulations

The fathers are cackling in trees of the forest
Our mother is dead in the sea

Do you know we are being led to slaughters by placid admirals
and that fat slow generals are getting obscene on young blood?

Do you know we are ruled by T.V.?

The moon is dry blood beast
Guerrilla bands are rolling numbers
in the next block of green vine
amassing for warfare on innocent herdsman who are just dying

Oh great creator of being grant us one more hour to perform our art
and perfect our lives

The moths and atheists are doubly divine and dying

We live, we die and death not ends it

Journey we more into the Nightmare
Cling to life our passioned flower

Cling to Cunts & cocks of despair

We got our final vision by clap
Columbus is groin got filled with green death
I touched her thigh and death smiled

We have assembled inside this ancient and insane theatre
To propagate our lust for life and flee the swarming wisdom of the streets

The barns are stormed
The windows kept
and only one of all the rest to dance and save us
With the divine mockery of words

Music inflames temperament

When the true King's murderers are allowed to roam free
A 1000 Magicians arise in the land

Where are the feasts we are promised

Where is the wine, The New Wine, dying on the vine

Resident mockery give us an hour for magic

We of the purple glove,we of the starling flight , and velvet hour
We of arabic pleasures's breed, we of sun, dome and the night

Give us a creed to believe, a night of lust

Give us trust in The Night

Give of color, hundred hues, a rich mandala
for me and for you

and for your silky pillowed house a head, wisdom and a bed

Troubled decree Resident mockery has claimed thee

We used to believe in the good old days
We still receive in little ways the things of Kindness
and unsporting brow forget and allow

Did you know freedom exists in school books?

Did you know madmen are running our prisons
within a jail, within a gaol
within a white free protestant maelstrom?

We're perched headlong on the edge of boredom
We're reaching for death on the end of a candle
We're trying for something that's already found us

Wow, I'm sick of doubt

Living the light of certain south

Cruel bindings the savants have the power
dog-men and their mean women pulling poor blankets over our sailors

I'm sick of dour faces Staring at me from the T.V. 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 & wanton thrillful comes death on a stranger 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 claws

No more money, no more fancy dress
This other kingdom seems by far the best
until its other jaw reveals incest
and loose obedience to a vegetable law

I will not go
Prefer a feast of friends
To the Giant family

Jim Morrison

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Link to An American Prayer in the voice of Jim Morrison:

An American Prayer