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ICANEWS Junio 2005, Año 2 # 8
Jim Morrison:
The Lizard King
by Nicolás Méndez
“Me and my mother and father, and a grandmother and a grandfather, were driving through the desert, at dawn, and a truck load of Indian workers had either hit another car, or just I don't know what happened but there were Indians scattered all over the highway, bleeding to death. So the car pulls up and stops. That was the first time I tasted fear. I musta' been about four like a child is like a flower, his head is floating in the breeze, man. The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking back is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead Indians... maybe one or two of 'em... were just running around, panic-stricken, and just leaped into my soul. And they're still in there."
This childhood memory inspired most of Jim Morrison work. With these ideas in mind, he became one of the most creative and amusing musicians and poets of history. His lyrics are stained with Indian's blood and suffering. Certainly, the incident left lasting scars on the young Lizard King's psyche; he would return to the incident again and again in his writing, like for example in one of The Doors' most famous songs "Peace Frog.”
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Glossary
dawn: amanecer
scattered: desparramados
stained: manchado
scar: cicatriz
panic-striken: muertos de pánico
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Lyrics for: Peace Frog
There's blood in the streets, it's up to my ankles
She came
There's blood on the streets, it's up to my knee
She came
Blood on the streets in the town of Chicago
She came
Blood on the rise, it's following me
Think about the break of day

She came and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair

She came
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness
She came
Blood in the streets it's up to my thigh
She came
Yeah the river runs red down the legs of the city
She came
The women are crying rivers of weepin'

She came into town and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair

Indians scattered on dawn's 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 Phantastic L.A.

Blood screams the pain 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
Blood in the streets, it's up to my knee
Blood in the streets in the town of Chicago
Blood on the rise, it's following me
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