Stoned immaculate (#1)

Fotografia de Prokhor Minin

The white blind light

Your home is still here,
inviolate and certain.
Thank you, oh lord, for the white blind light.
Jumped humped, born to suffer...
Made to undress in the wilderness.
All of us have found a safe niche where we can store up our riches and talk to our fellows...
in the same premise of disaster.
Thank you, oh lord, for the white blind light.
Let me tell you about heartache in the loss of god...
wandering, wandering a hopeless night.
Moonshine night, mountain village insane in the woods in the deep trees.
...in the deep trees...
...in the deep trees...
Your home is still here,
inviolate and certain.
Oh, I want to be there, I want us to be there, oh, I want to be there... beside the lake, beneath the moon....
Cool and swollen, dripping its hot liquor...
I want to be there.
Thank you, oh lord, for the white blind light.
A city rises from the sea.
Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of God,
Wandering, wandering a hopeless night.
Let me show you the maiden with wrought iron soul.
Out here in perimeter there are no stars.
Out here we are stoned...
Immaculate...

Jim Morrison