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The Doors - A Feast of Friends

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Song Lyrics

Wow, I`m sick of doubt
Live in the light of certain
South
Cruel bindings.
The servants 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 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
claws

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.

Release History

This song appears on the following The Doors Releases:


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Song Duration
2:10

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