Mr Mojo Risin
He lit my fire, he reached
within, my soul to take, the Lizard King.
Through the Doors of
perception he cried,
"I’m the crawling
King snake baby,
I’m the Changeling;
I roam the City at night.
I live up town, I
live down town, I live all around.
My star is bright".
He lit my fire, he reached
within, my soul to take, the Lizard King.
Florida child, he returned, with leather pants
thrust, angry chant, Yeah! "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon now Touch
me, babe" - and then the bust.
In self destruct he
headed west to the La women
He loved the best.
He lit my fire, he
reached within, my soul to take, the Lizard King.
His Angel face began
to change, to chubby cherub with grizzly beard. His voice like gravel lowered
in range. Riding on
the storm he cried again, “There is a killer on the road”, through the driving rain.
He lit my fire, he reached
within, my soul to take, the Lizard King.
To Paris, a poet to
be, in streets of rebel Glory.
He loved her madly;
she could be his guide,
While he tried to
break through to the other Side.
Now finished with
records and tours,
and so he had closed
the Doors.
He lit my fire, he
reached within, my soul to take, the Lizard King.
He was here and
there too short a while, a demon haunting his full lip smile.
He joined a band of
poets and painters, lying cold in
Pere lachaise. A tourist hive,
With the chilling
words, “no one gets out of here alive”.
He lit my fire, he
reached within, my soul to take, the Lizard King.
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