The Hill Dwellers - The Doors

Way back deep into the brain

Back where there’s never any pain.

And the rain falls gently on the town.

And in the labyrinth of streams

Beneath, the quiet unearthly presence of Nervous hill dwellers in the gentle hills around,

Reptiles abounding

Fossils, caves, cool air heights.

Each house repeats a mold

Windows rolled

Beast car locked in against morning.

All now sleeping

Rugs silent, mirrors vacant,

Dust blind under the beds of lawful couples

Wound in sheets.

And daughters, smug

With semen eyes in their nipples

Wait

There’s been a slaughter here.

Don’t stop to speak or look around

Your gloves & fan are on the ground

We’re getting out of town

We’re going on the run

And you’re the one I want to come