The Doors

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Em
Curses, Invocations
Weird bate-headed mongrels
I keep expecting one of you to rise
Large buxom obese queen
Garden hogs and cunt veterans
Quaint cabbage saints
Shit hoarders and individualists
                   Am
Drag strip officials

Em
Tight lipped losers and
Lustful fuck salesman
My militant dandies
All strange orders of monsters
Hot on the trail of the woodvine
                                F
We welcome you to our procession

F
Here come the Comedians
Look at them smile
Watch them dance an Indian mile
Look at them gesture
How aplomb
                      Em
So to gesture everyone

Em
Words dissemble
Words be quick
Words resemble walking sticks
Plant them they will grow
Watch them waver so
I'll always be a word man
Better then a bird man