| [00:03.26] |
Artist: Doors |
| [00:03.66] |
Album: An American Prayer |
| [00:04.16] |
Title: A Feast Of Friends |
| [00:05.67] |
Wow, I'm sick of doubt. |
| [00:07.87] |
Live in the light of certain. |
| [00:09.32] |
South. |
| [00:09.87] |
Cruel bindings. |
| [00:12.47] |
The servants have the power. |
| [00:14.68] |
Dog men and their mean women pulling poor blankets over our sailors. |
| [00:23.74] |
I'm sick of dour faces staring at me from the T.V. tower. |
| [00:33.41] |
I want roses in my garden bower, dig? |
| [00:36.98] |
Royal babies, rubies must now replace aborted strangers in the mud. |
| [00:45.28] |
These mutants, blood-meal for the plant that's plowed. |
| [01:10.76] |
They are waiting to take us into the severed garden. |
| [01:15.32] |
Do you know how pale and wanton thrillful comes death on a strange hour? |
| [01:20.59] |
Unannounced, unplanned for, |
| [01:23.09] |
like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed. |
| [01:28.11] |
Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders |
| [01:32.47] |
smooth as raven's claws. |
| [01:39.17] |
No more money, no more fancy dress, |
| [01:41.48] |
this other kingdom seems by far the best, |
| [01:44.18] |
until it's other jaw reveals incest, |
| [01:47.49] |
and loose obedience to a vegetable law. |
| [01:52.04] |
I will not go. |
| [01:54.45] |
Prefer a feast of friends to the giant family. |
| [02:06.34] |
M.V.A. |
