The Soft Parade by The Doors
When I was back in seminary school, there was a person there who put forth the proposition that you could petition the Lord with prayer. Petition the Lord with prayer. Petition the Lord with prayer. YOU CANNOT PETITION THE LORD WITH PRAYER!!!
Can you give me sanctuary?
I must find a place to hide
A place for me to hide.
Can you find me soft aslyum
I can’t make it anymore
The Man is at the door
So I had survived.
Just great. Wonderful news.
I was still here
This is the Best Part of the Trip. This is the Trip. The Best Part. I really like.
So I obviously wasn’t going to be successful into simply slipping into the abyss. No slipping into Eternal Bliss for me.
All our lives we scrimped and saved. Heading for a shallow grave. Everything must be this way.
I was doomed to be here. And now I understood that I was stuck in middle of something bigger than I could understand.
Cobra on my Left. Leopard on my Right.
I am Black. I was White. I am Smart. I am Funny. I am fat. I am ugly. I am mixed. I am mulatto. I am sweet. I am nice. I am. I am. What am I?
It was all swirling around my mind while I had to spend my three days in the psych ward.
The only thing I DID know is that I wasn’t gonna try to kill myself anymore. I wasn’t gonna get trapped with crazy people anymore.
So I decided that I would take advantage of feeling outside myself. I would find a place to hide.
The Monk Bought Lunch.
There are still a few animals,
Left out in the yard
But it’s getting harder,
To describe sailors,
To the underfed
What got us this far,
To this mild equator?
We need someone or something new
Something else to get us through……