The Doors was one of the most representative psychedelic rock bands of all time. Their trademark is the dramatic, haunting sound, sustained by poetic lyrics.
Dawn’s Highway - The Doors
Album: An American Prayer
genre: Rock
Indians scattered on dawn’s highway bleeding.
Ghosts crowd the young child’s fragile eggshell mind
Blood in the streets
In the town of New Haven.
Blood stains the roofs
And the palm trees of Venice.
Blood in my love
In the terrible summer.
Bloody red sun of
Phantastic L.A.
Blood screams her brain
As they chop off her fingers.
Blood will be born
In the birth of a nation.
Blood is the rose of
Mysterious union.
Blood on the rise,
It’s following me.
Indian, Indian
What did you die for?
Indian says nothing at all.
Lyrics added by Sandra Quinn
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