Friday Night Live with Jami Mills and Graylon Ash
I want to be Jim Morrison, and brood sensual. magnetic gravitas, significant in scowl, stance like toreador, joust without armor the bull of convention, like a mythic dragon. I would throw myself, in drunken poet fit, without deserving it, thumbing my nose at the moral codes, rubbing my belly, my own personal fat stoned Buddha. And sing for you, not knowing how well, words so direct and phosphorescent, as to light water on fire, in sparkles out my ass, I want to be Jim Morrison just to make love to you.