Doors
Forward marching whores,
Backpacking towards closed doors,
Sing songs of merrytime wonder,
Sinking forward, rolling thunder.
Black days beget black nights,
And red lenses make a reddened life.
For who seeks with excitement,
And for who falls dead and weary,
A song of hope.
Backpacking towards closed doors,
Sing songs of merrytime wonder,
Sinking forward, rolling thunder.
Black days beget black nights,
And red lenses make a reddened life.
For who seeks with excitement,
And for who falls dead and weary,
A song of hope.