Les membres des Doors reviennent sur l’histoire de « Morrison Hotel », l’avant-dernier album du groupe, fruit d’une période d’heureuse créativité après les tempêtes de l’année 1969.
The Doors - Morrison Hotel - Regarder le documentaire complet | ARTE
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PEACE FROG
There’s blood in the streets,
It’s up to my ankles.
There’s blood in the streets,
It’s up to my knees.
There’s blood in the street,
The town of Chicago.
Blood on the rise,
It’s followin’ me.
Just about the break of day.
She came in town,
And then she drove away,
Sunlight in her hair.
Blood on the streets
Runs a river of sadness.
Blood in the streets,
It’s up to my thighs.
The river runs down
The leg of the city.
The women are crying
Red rivers of weeping.
She came in town,
And then she drove away,
Sunlight in her hair.
Indians scattered on dawn’s highway bleeding,
ghosts crowd the young child’s fragile,
egg-shell mind.
Blood in the streets,
In the town of New Haven.
Blood stains the roofs
And the palm tress of Venice.
Blood in my love,
In the terrible summer;
Bloody red sun of
fantastic 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.
There’s blood in the streets,
It’s up to my ankles.
There’s blood in the streets,
It’s up to my knees.
There’s blood in the street,
The town of Chicago.
Blood on the rise,
It’s followin’ me.