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The Doors Whiskey, Mystics And Men
Well, I’ll tell you a story of whiskey and mystics and men, And about the believers and how the whole thing began. First there were women and children obeying the moon, Then daylight brought wisdom and fever and sickness too soon. You can try to remind me instead of the other, you can. You can help to insure that we all insecure our command. If you don’t give a listen, I won’t try to tell your new hand. This is it; can’t you see that we all have our ends in the band.
And if all of the teachers and preachers of wealth were arraigned, We could see quite a future for me in the literal sands. And if all the people could claime to inspect such regrets, well, we’d have no forgiveness, forgetfullness, faithful remorse. So I tell you, I tell you, I tell you we must send away. We must try to find a new answer instead of a way.
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