“Wake up! You can’t remember where it was!”
"Are you alive and have you been born yet?"
My gang will get you”.
Yes, they are.
There is not a single artist in music or film that I know of, who is willing or even capable of comprehending and understanding the dominant and existential threat that the free West etc faces, from fascist Islam. Thus not a SINGLE alleged artist to date, has produced a SINGLE piece of work on the subject worth a damn. They are always utterly and laughably wrong, and in the most skewed, dated and off the mark ways possible. And they are ALWAYS on the wrong side.
Now I’ve always loved The Doors, even before I was born. But then “I’ve always been a word man”. In his peculiar non-sequitur, uniquely ambiguous liquid semi-narratives, Jim Morrison tracked and gave cathartic form to other things. Though the weight of the words apply precisely to the stealth Sharia jihad of terrorislam. No, really. Oh yes they do, as we shall see. Yep, Jim was a million wacky and wonderful laughs. Just like Islam and the left.
Strange Days.
Colonel Neville: Jim describes the current Western malaise of Marxist Left indoctrinated cultural exhaustion, self-loathing and social suicide via a perverse and massive collapse of confidence. This is the perfect playground for stealth Jihadists who believe totally in their goals and methods.
“Strange days have found us
Strange days have tracked us down
They’re going to destroy
Our casual joys
We shall go on playing
Or find a new town
Strange eyes fill strange rooms
Voices will signal their tired end
The hostess is grinning
Her guests sleep from sinning
Hear me talk of sin
And you know this is it
Yeah!
Strange days have found us
And through their strange hours
We linger alone
Bodies confused
Memories misused
As we run from the day
To a strange night of stone
Spanish Caravan Celebration etc.
Colonel Neville: Jim describes the centuries to millenia long and quite insane motives of millions of Muslims for their relentless global terrorislam.
“Carry me caravan take me away
Take me to Portugal, take me to Spain
Andalusia with fields full of grain
I have to see you again and again
Take me, Spanish caravan
Yes, I know you can
Trade winds find galleons lost in the sea
I know where treasure is waiting for me
Silver and gold in the mountains of Spain
I have to see you again and again
Take me, Spanish caravan
Yes, I know you can
Changeling [multi media].
Colonel Neville: Jim describes perfectly how Islamic terror cells live and plan among us everyday. In fact, right now and in your neighbourhood.
“I live uptown
I live downtown
I live all around
I had money, and I had none x2
But I never been so broke
That I couldn’t leave town
I’m a changeling, see me change x2
I’m the air you breath
The food you eat
The friends your greet
In the swarming street, wow
See me change
See me change, you
Crystal Ship.
Colonel Neville: Jim gives a nice insight into the lifestyle of the clueless, innocent and naïve, and how do you even begin to tell them and explain about stealth Jihad?
“Before you slip into unconsciousness
I’d like to have another kiss
Another flashing chance at bliss
Another kiss, another kiss
The days are bright and filled with pain
Enclose me in your gentle rain
The time you ran was too insane
Well meet again, well meet again
Oh tell me where your freedom lies
The streets are fields that never die
Deliver me from reasons why
Youd rather cry, Id rather fly
The crystal ship is being filled
A thousand girls, a thousand thrills
A million ways to spend your time
When we get back, Ill drop a line
The WASP Texas Radio and the Big Beat.
Colonel Neville: Jim and the boys paint a vivid and ambiguous mural of the loss of control of US and UK borders etc, to illegal aliens, Islamists and Mecha, the Mexican Al Qaeda ad nauseum.
“I wanna tell you 'bout Texas Radio and the Big Beat
Comes out of the Virginia swamps
Cool and slow with a friendly precision
With a back beat narrow and hard to master
Some call it heavenly in its brilliance
Others, mean and rueful of the Western dream
I love the friends I have gathered together on this thin raft
We have constructed pyramids in honour of our escaping
This is the land where the Pharaoh died
The negroes in the forest brightly feathered
They are saying, "forget the night
Live with us in forests of azure
Out here on the perimeter there are no stars
Out here we is stoned, immaculate."
Listen to this, I'll tell you 'bout the heartache
I'll tell you 'bout the heartache and the loss of God
I'll tell you 'bout the hopeless night
The meagre food for souls forgot
I'll tell you 'bout the maiden with wrought iron soul
I'll tell you this: No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn
I'll tell you 'bout Texas Radio and the Big Beat
Soft driven, slow and mad, like some new language
Now, listen to this, and I'll tell you 'bout the Texas
I'll tell you 'bout the Texas B ee ee o
I'll tell you 'bout the hopeless night
The wander in the Western dream
Tell you 'bout the maiden with wrought iron soul
Ghost Song.
Colonel Neville: Jim describes how the arrival of Mad Mohammad destroyed everything and still is.
“Awake.
Shake dreams from your hair
my pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
the day's divinity
First thing you see.
A vast radiant beach and cooled jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by it's quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us.
Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
the time has come again
choose now, they croon
beneath the moon
beside an ancient lake
Enter again the sweet forest
Enter the hot dream
Come with us
everything is broken up and dances.
Indians scattered,
On dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child’s,
Fragile eggshell mind
We have assembled inside,
This ancient and insane theater
To propagate our lust for life,
And flee the swarming wisdom of the streets.
The barns have stormed
The windows kept,
And only one of all the rest
To dance and save us
From the divine mockery of words,
Music inflames temperament.
Ooh great creator of being
Grant us one more hour,
To perform our art
And perfect our lives.
We need great golden copulations,
When the true kings murderers
Are allowed to roam free,
A thousand magicians arise in the land
Where are the feast we are promised?
One more thing
Thank you oh Lord
For the white blind light
Thank you oh lord
For the white blind light
A city rises from the sea
I had a splitting headache
From which the future's made
Not to Touch the Earth.
Colonel Neville: Jim explains how even our own government and authorities are wilfully self-deluded and incompetent losers who cannot and will not protect the free Western Canon. They will kill us all with their spineless PC idiocy.
“Not to touch the Earth
Not to see the Sun
Nothing left to do, but run, run, run
Let's run, let's run
House upon the hill
Moon is lying still
Shadows of the trees
Witnessing the wild breeze
Come on, baby, run with me
Let's run
Run with me
Let's run!
The mansion is warm at the top of the hill
Rich are the rooms and the comforts there
Red are the arms of luxuriant chairs
And you won't know a thing till you get inside
Dead president's corpse in the driver's car
The engine runs on glue and tar
Come on along, not goin' very far
To the East to meet the Czar
Run with me
Let's run!
Whoah!
Some outlaws live by the side of a lake
The minister's daughter's in love with the snake
Who lives in a well by the side of the road
Wake up, girl, we're almost home
Yeah, c'mon!
We should see the gates by mornin'
We should be inside by evenin'
Sun, sun, sun
Burn, burn, burn
Soon, soon, soon
Moon, moon, moon
I will get you
Soon! Soon! Soon!
I am the Lizard King
I can do anything
Who Scared You.
Colonel Neville: Jim does a beautiful and surgical job of describing the way that Islamic psychopaths such as Hamas etc, breed, brainwash and abuse children to train them to murder people via their own suicides.
“Who scared you and why were you born, my babe?
In two-time's arms with all of your charms, my love.
Why were you born, just to play with me,
To freak out or to be beautiful, my dear?
Load your head, blow it up, feeling good, baby
Load your head, blow it up, feeling good, baby.
Well my room is so cold, you know you don't have to go, my babe.
And if you want it up right, I'm gonna love you tonight, my love.
Well I'm glad that we came, I hope you're feeling the same.
Who scared you and why were you born? Please stay.
I see your rider coming down the road.
Got a virgin carrying a heavy load,
One sack of silver and one bag of gold.
Maggie McGill.
Colonel Neville: Jim explains how celebrities are often mildly entertaining and useless guides for anything as they party on. But there are real people out there, on the sacred land.
“Miss Maggie M'Gill, she lived on a hill
Her daddy got drunk and left her the will
So she went down, down to Tangie Town
People down there really like to get it on
Now if you're sad and you're feeling blue
Go out and buy a brand new pair of shoes
And you go down, down to Tangie Town
'Cause people down there really like to get it on
Get it on
Illegitimate son of a Rock n' Roll star
Illegitimate son of a Rock n' Roll star
Mom met dad in the back of a Rock n' Roll car
Well, I'm an old blues man and I think that you understand
I've been singing the blues ever since the world began
Maggie, Maggie, Maggie M'Gill
Roll on, roll on, Maggie M'Gill
No One Here Gets Out Alive Pt 1 of 6.
The Spy.
Colonel Neville: Jim maps out how Islamic Taquiyaa spouting two- faced freaks, infiltrate our open societies which are based entirely on TRUST. Islamic cultures are entirely based on MISTRUST.
“I'm a spy in the house of love.
I know the dream that you're dreaming of.
I know the word that you long to hear.
I know your deepest secret fear.
I know everything.
Everything you do, everywhere you go, everyone you know.
I'm a spy, I can see, what you do, and I know
Peace Frog.
Colonel Neville: Jim has a vision of what will be when Muslims get to that magic 10% of the population number, and over via numerically superior birth rates, make their endless and relentless demands.
“Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
She came
Theres blood on the streets, its up to my knee
She came
Blood on the streets in the town of Chicago
She came
Blood on the rise, its following me
Think about the break of day
She came and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness
She came
Blood in the streets its up to my thigh
She came
Yeah the river runs down the legs of the city
She came
The women are crying red rivers of weepin
She came into town and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
Indians scattered on dawns 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 fantastic L.A.
Blood streams 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, its up to my ankles
Blood in the streets, its up to my knee
Blood in the streets in the town of Chicago
Blood on the rise, its following me
Break On Through.
Colonel Neville: Jim says you wake up one day and it’s like this, unless you cut through the MSM bullshit, educate yourself and others and face the harsh truth of Islam and the treasonous Left.
“You know the day destroys the night
Night divides the day
Tried to run
Tried to hide
Break on through to the other side
We chased our pleasures here
Dug our treasures there
But can you still recall
The time we cried
Break on through to the other side
Everybody loves my baby
She gets high
I found an island in your arms
Country in your eyes
Arms that chain
Eyes that lie
Break on through to the other side
Made the scene
Week to week
Day to day
Hour to hour
The gate is straight
Deep and wide
Break on through to the other side
Break on through
Riders On The Storm.
Colonel Neville: Jim says that there is something wrong and offers a vignette of what it’s like for a Jew if they take a wrong turn near the border or Jerusalem or even within Israel etc. Or the two siters who were murdered by their Muslim Father in the US and Hell, everywhere.
“Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house were born
Into this world were thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
There’s a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin’ like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If ya give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah
Girl ya gotta love your man
Girl ya gotta love your man
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Gotta love your man, yeah
Riders on the storm
Into this house were born
Into this world were thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm
Alabama Song.
Colonel Neville: Jim shows the depravity and hypocrisy of much of Arab Muslim culture.
“Well, show me the way
To the next whiskey bar
Oh, don't ask why
For if we don't find
The next whiskey bar
I tell you we must die
Oh, moon of Alabama
We now must say goodbye
We've lost our good old mama
And must have whiskey, oh, you know why
Well, show me the way
To the next little girl
Oh, don't ask why
For if we don't find
The next little girl
I tell you we must die
People Are Strange.
Colonel Neville: Jim narrates the misfit dork and geek mindset of the average Islamist Jew hating loon when they step fully ignorant, uncomprehending, stupid and sour into the free West from whatever dysfunctional part of Gods Monkey House they may have swung from.
Think of Qtub and his sociopath perceptions of an ordinary, normal and decent American small town in the 1950’s. To Qtub the shithead and circus freak, typical young people enjoying a healthy and balanced life was “evil”. Thus Qtub is a MAJOR and natural influence for millions of Muslim killers and nihilistic losers worldwide.
Such emotional spastics can never be pleased or reasoned with, only neutralised.
“People are strange when you’re a stranger
Faces look ugly when you’re alone
Women seem wicked when you’re unwanted
Streets are uneven when you’re down
When you’re strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you’re strange
No one remembers your name
When you’re strange
No one remembers your name
When you’re strange
L.A. Woman
Colonel Neville: James Douglas Morrison shows how Sharia Creep happens all around us while we are er, distracted. Jihadists rely on this and it’s working out fine and dandy for them so far.
“Well, I just got into town about an hour ago
Took a look around, see which way the wind blow
Where the little girls in their Hollywood bungalows
Are you a lucky little lady in the city of light
Or just another lost angel...city of night
City of night, city of night, city of night, woo, c’mon
L.a. woman, L.A. woman
L.A. woman Sunday afternoon x3
Drive through your suburbs
Into your blues, into your blues, yeah
Into your blue-blue blues
Into your blues, oh, yeah
I see your hair is burnin
Hills are filled with fire
If they say I never loved you
You know they are a liar
Drivin down your freeways
Midnight alleys roam
Cops in cars, the topless bars
Never saw a woman...
So alone, so alone x2
Motel money murder madness
Lets change the mood from glad to sadness
Mr Mojo risin
Five To One.
Colonel Neville: Jim slams the backdated PC suicide of “cheese eating surrender monkeys”, and how the slow destruction of the free West is a matter of numbers multiplied over time.
“Five to one, baby
One in five
No one here gets out alive, now
You get yours, baby
Ill get mine
Gonna make it, baby
If we try
The old get old
And the young get stronger
May take a week
And it may take longer
They got the guns
But we got the numbers
Gonna win, yeah
Were takin over
Come on!
Your ballroom days are over, baby
Night is drawing near
Shadows of the evening crawl across the years
Ya walk across the floor with a flower in your hand
Trying to tell me no one understands
Trade in your hours for a handful dimes
Gonna make it, baby, in our prime
Come together one more time
Get together one more time
Hey, cmon, honey
You wont have a long wait for me, baby
Ill be there in just a little while
You see, I gotta go out in this car with these people and...
Waiting For The Sun.
Colonel Neville: Jim with a classic take on how “you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone”.
“At first flash of Eden, we race down to the sea.
Standing there on freedoms shore.
Waiting for the sun
Can you feel it now that spring has come?
And its time to live in the scattered sun.
Waiting for the sun
Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting
Waiting for you to - come along
Waiting for you to - hear my song
Waiting for you to - come along
Waiting for you to - tell me what went wrong
This is the strangest life I have ever known
Horse Latitudes.
Colonel Neville: Jim on how for the majority of people, even a video of Islamist psychopaths beheading people just like them, simply just doesn’t register.
“When the still sea conspires an armor
And her sullen and aborted
Currents breed tiny monsters,
True sailing is dead.
Awkward instant
And the first animal is jettisoned,
Legs furiously pumping
Their stiff green gallop,
And heads bob up
Poise
Delicate
Pause
Consent
In mute nostril agony
Carefully refined
And sealed over
Doors Interview with the very interesting and intelligent Jim Morrison.
Jim Interview.
The End.
Colonel Neville: Jim on our surprisingly near future. Unless we all change completely, recognising and declaring that we ARE under asymmetrical attack by Muslims and thus Islam.
By default, a war of aggression cannot be turned off, don't they know?
“This is the end
you gentle friend
yeah, how 'bout "beautiful friend"
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I’ll never look into your eyes
Again
Can you picture what we’ll be,
So limitless and free?
Desperately in need
Of some stranger’s hand
In a desperate land
Lost in a Roman
Wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain, yeah
There’s danger on the edge of town
Ride the king’s highway
Weird scenes inside the goldmine
Ride the highway west, baby
Ride the snake
Ride the snake
To the lake
The ancient lake, baby
The snake he’s long
Seven miles
Ride the snake
He’s old
And his skin is cold
The West is the best
Get here, and we’ll do the rest
The blue bus is calling us
Driver where you takin’ us?
The killer awoke before dawn
He put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery and he
Walked on down the hall
And he went into the room where his sister lived
And then he,
paid a visit to his brother, and then he,
He walked on down the hall, yeah
And he came to a door
And he looked inside
Father?
“Yes son?”
I want to kill you
Mother? I want to
fuck you all night yeah,
Come on, yeah
Come on baby, take a chance with us and
Meet me at the back of the blue bus
Doin’ a blue rock
On the blue bus on a blue bus
Fuck, fuck yeah
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill
This is the end
you gentle friend once again, "beautiful friend"
This is the end
My only friend, the end
It hurts to set you free
But you’ll never follow me
The end of laughter
And soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end
Crawling King Snake.
Colonel Neville: Jim shows the answer is to have balls, courage, backbone, brains, God, belief and guns. Our mortal and very possible nemesis have several of these things, while many in the free West do not.
“Well, I'm the Crawlin' King Snake
And I rule my den
I'm the Crawlin' King Snake
And I rule my den
Yeah, don't mess 'round with my mate
Gonna use her for myself
Caught me crawlin', baby, window
Grass is belly high
Keep on crawlin' till the day I die
Crawlin' King Snake
And I rule my den
You better give me what I want
Gonna crawl no more
Caught me crawlin', baby
Crawlin' 'round your door
Seein' everything I want
I'm gonna crawl on your floor
Alright, crawl a while
C'mon crawl
Get on out there on your hands and knees, baby
Crawl all over me
Just like the spider on the wall
Ooh, we gonn' crawl, one more
Call me the Crawlin' King Snake