Morrison 2.0
Hung over, painting trim in the mansion on the hill. The electrician’s boom box sounds half a world away :
For a second, you’re thinking - Tom Jones? Covering The Doors?
But no - no, it’s the actual song.
And then it hits you, if Jim Morrison were still alive today, he would be playing Vegas show rooms. Still wearing the same leather pants, wrinkled as a Sun Rype raisin. An acid fueled revival of faded glory - dick out, fending off the broads with his walker.
Morrison 2.0
Christ, don’t clone the lizard king.
Posted Sunday, November 30, 2008
Hung over, painting trim in the mansion on the hill. The electrician’s boom box sounds half a world away :
“Come on, come on, come on, come on
Now touch me, babe
Cant you see
That I am not afraid?”
For a second, you’re thinking - Tom Jones? Covering The Doors?
But no - no, it’s the actual song.
And then it hits you, if Jim Morrison were still alive today, he would be playing Vegas show rooms. Still wearing the same leather pants, wrinkled as a Sun Rype raisin. An acid fueled revival of faded glory - dick out, fending off the broads with his walker.
Morrison 2.0
Christ, don’t clone the lizard king.
Image from Toon Pool .
Labels: brain farts