Jim Morrison would never have had this problem.
The Indian would whisper the secret to make his words famous
And I would still be looking for the desert to show me the way.
Pamela would swoon to hear those lyrics come from his voice
About heartache and the loss of God,
about redemption for another mistake.

I am still waiting for my redemption from these boring nights
when nothing pores out but the heartache and loss
that never seem to go away.
Jim, shake your dreams from your wavy locks
and let them surround my writing you this journey.
Let's walk to the desert to smoke our songs free.

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