Besedila: The Doors. An American Prayer. Latino Chrome.

The music was new

black polished chrome

And came over the summer

like liquid night.

The DJ's took pills to stay awake

and play for seven days

They went to the studio

And someone knew him

Someone knew the TV showman

He came to our homeroom party

and played records

And when he left in the hot noon sun

and walked to his car

We saw the chooks had written

F-U-C-K on his windshield

He wiped it off with a rag

and smiling cooly drove away


He's rich. Got a big car.


My gang will get you

Scenes of rape in the arroyo

Seduction in cars, abandoned buildings

Fights at the food stand

The dust

the shoes

Open shirts and raised collars

Bright sculptured hair.


Hey man, you want girls, pills, grass? C'mon...

I show you good time.

This place has everything. C'mon...

I show you.