December 8, 1943 – July 3, 1971 "People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend." "I am interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos-especially activity that seems to have no meaning. It seems to me to be the road toward freedom... Rather than starting inside, I start outside and reach the mental through the physical." "I believe in a long, prolonged derangement of the senses to attain the unknown. Our pale reasoning hides the infinite from us." "I like any reaction I can get with my music. Just anything to get people to think. I mean if you can get a whole room full of drunk, stoned people to actually wake up and think, you're doing something." "I think of myself as an intelligent, sensitive human being with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most important moments." "If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel." "This is the strangest life I've ever known."
Right, I can hundreds of lyricists and poets and authors who are much better. How incredible You know the day destroys the night Night divides the day Tried to run Tried to hide Break on through to the other side Break on through to the other side Break on through to the other side, yeah We chased our pleasures here Dug our treasures there But can you still recall The time we cried Break on through to the other side Break on through to the other side Yeah! C'mon, yeah Everybody loves my baby Everybody loves my baby She get(s high) She get(s high) She get(s high) She get(s high) I found an island in your arms Country in your eyes Arms that chain Eyes that lie Break on through to the other side Break on through to the other side Break on through, oww! Oh, yeah! Made the scene Week to week Day to day Hour to hour The gate is straight Deep and wide Break on through to the other side Break on through to the other side Break on through Break on through Break on through Break on through Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Calling that poetry is an insult to things like this and this: I am just a poor boy and my storys seldom told Ive squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to hear And disregards the rest, hmmmm When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a boy In the company of strangers In the quiet of the railway station, runnin scared Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters, where the ragged people go Looking for the places only they would know Li la li... Asking only workmans wages, I come lookin for a job, but I get no offers Just a comeon from the whores on 7th avenue I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there Now the years are rolling by me, they are rockin even me I am older than I once was, and younger than Ill be, thats not unusual No it isnt strange, after changes upon changes, we are more or less the same After changes we are more or less the same Li la li... And Im laying out my winter clothes, wishing I was gone, goin home Where the new york city winters arent bleedin me, leadin me to go home In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him til he cried out in his anger and his shame I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains Yes he still remains Li la li... CHORUS: They call me The Wild Rose But my name was Elisa Day Why they call me it I do not know For my name was Elisa Day From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one As she stared in my eyes and smiled For her lips were the colour of the roses They grew down the river, all bloody and wild When he knocked on my door and entered the room My trembling subsided in his sure embrace He would be my first man, and with a careful hand He wiped the tears that ran down my face CHORUS On the second day I brought her a flower She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen I said, 'Do you know where the wild roses grow So sweet and scarlet and free?' On the second day he came with a single rose Said: 'Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?' I nodded my head, as I layed on the bed He said, 'If I show you the roses will you follow?' CHORUS On the third day he took me to the river He showed me the roses and we kissed And the last thing I heard was a muttered word As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief As I kissed her goodbye, I said, 'All beauty must die' And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth CHORUS
why would you come into a thread about honoring jim morrison just to bash on him? i understand you dont like him, thats fine and your opinion. But if you want to shit on a dead guy why dont you make another thread for it? That way everyone who didnt like the doors can have a conversation about not understanding the music.
you picked some of my favorite Morrison Qoutes sept this “The most loving parents and relatives commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force us to destroy the person we really are: a subtle kind of murder.”
