The Soft Parade - The Doors
All our lives we sweat and save, building for a shallow grave. "Must be something else," we say, somehow to defend this place. Everything must be this way. The Soft Parade has now begun. Listen to the engines hum. People out to have some fun. A cobra on my left, a leopard on my right. The deer woman in a silk dress, girls with beads around their necks, kiss the hunter of the green vest, who has wrestled before with lions in the night.
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