The Severed Garden - Jim Morrison (The Doors)

THE SEVERED GARDEN


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.