|
[ti:Newborn Awakening] |
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[ar:Jim Morrison] |
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[al:An American Prayer] |
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[offset:-500] |
| [00:30.26] |
Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding. |
| [00:35.01] |
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile egg-shell mind |
| [00:42.62] |
Blood in the streets |
| [00:44.19] |
In the town of New Haven. |
| [00:46.83] |
Blood stains the roofs |
| [00:48.47] |
And the palm trees of Venice. |
| [00:51.07] |
Blood in my love |
| [00:52.54] |
In the terrible summer. |
| [00:55.44] |
Bloody red sun of |
| [00:57.39] |
Phantastic L.A. |
| [01:01.94] |
Blood screams her brain |
| [01:03.00] |
As they chop off her fingers. |
| [01:06.00] |
Blood will be born |
| [01:07.14] |
In the birth of a nation. |
| [01:10.30] |
Blood is the rose of |
| [01:12.16] |
Mysterious union. |
| [01:14.57] |
Blood on the rise, |
| [01:15.74] |
It's following me. |
| [01:17.92] |
|
| [01:23.15] |
Indian, Indian |
| [01:24.64] |
What did you die for? |
| [01:27.74] |
Indian says nothing at all. |
| [01:36.19] |
Gently they stir. |
| [01:39.19] |
Gently rise. |
| [01:40.94] |
The dead are new-born awakening. |
| [01:43.45] |
With ravaged limbs |
| [01:44.69] |
And wet souls. |
| [01:46.35] |
Gently they sigh |
| [01:47.63] |
In rapt funeral amazement. |
| [01:50.56] |
Who called these dead to dance? |
| [01:53.86] |
Was it the young woman |
| [01:55.40] |
Learning to play the "Ghost Song" |
| [01:56.82] |
In her baby grand |
| [02:00.10] |
Was it the wilderness children? |
| [02:02.14] |
Was it the Ghost-God himself, |
| [02:04.18] |
Stuttering, cheering, |
| [02:05.67] |
Chatting blindly? |
| [02:08.07] |
I called you up to |
| [02:09.45] |
Annoint the earth. |
| [02:10.52] |
I called you to announce |
| [02:11.79] |
Sadness falling like |
| [02:13.22] |
Burned skin. |
| [02:15.14] |
I called you to wish you well |
| [02:16.79] |
To glory in self like a new monster |
| [02:19.25] |
And now I call on you to pray |
