Am I a pilgrim or another souvenir hound?
In the city of lights I have set my sights on a king's domain,
It was a manhole, dug over at the edge of town,
And a spray can scrawl on a cemetery wall said, "You'd better behave."
Jim Morrison's grave,
Jim Morrison's grave.
It's getting cold here, and there ain't a lizard in sight,
Did the end begin when you shed your skin in the home of the brave?
Somebody shake him from the land of larger than life, where the remnants warn of a legend born in a dead man's cave.
Jim Morrison's grave,
Jim Morrison's grave,
Jim Morrison's grave.
I stay driven 'cause there's nowhere to park,
I can't shut my eyes; I'm afraid of the dark,
I lie awake: that stone left me chilled to the bone,
Sound the alarm before it's done, find Jim Morrison,
Come away to Paris, let him see another day,
Let him fade out slowly; only fools burn away,
Let a true love show him what a heart can become,
Somebody find Jim Morrison, find Jim Morrison's grave.
Jim Morrison's grave.
I get weary,
Lord, I don't understand: how does a seed get strangled in the heart of a man?
Then the music covers like an evening mist, like a watch still ticking on a dead man's wrist...tick away.
