“It was night, and the rain fell; and, falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood. And I stood in the morass among the tall lilies, and the rain fell upon my head — and the lilies sighed one unto the other in the solemnity of their desolation."
“The rain came down upon my head - Unshelter'd. And the wind rendered me mad and deaf and blind.”
A fine mist greets us at the garden gate; the gate of wrought iron lace. And from the Heavens you'll receive a sweet pulsing kiss of saline from the ocean's breeze; endeavoring to rise and faithfully bow at your feet.
The incessant rain is an eternal royal procession, a royal minstrel of liquid feet. And in this great land of Never, fog surrounds the shore, twice kissed. A fine filigree of gauzy mist, gives no relief, not once, not ever. The clouds do not envy the sun, for they've nothing to compare. They loose their arrows on lords and ladies, and let them tumble down from the air. Yet, so sweet is the love of a rainy day; it needs no petticoat or costume. The bees do not stop making honey, nor do the flowers fail to blossom.
The lady bug gives naught a shrug from under her umbrella of leaves. They all rise to spy from vines, into the windows of lovers true; Boring their eyes to admire the fireflies; naked, in a secret rendezvous, they fall and rise, through thin curtains of blue.
"Every storm blows in on a scent, or leaves one behind. The metallic zing that can fill the air before a summer thunderstorm is from ozone, a molecule formed from the interaction of electrical discharges—in this case from lightning—with oxygen molecules. Likewise, the familiar, musty odor that rises from streets and storm ponds during a deluge comes from a compound called geosmin. A byproduct of bacteria, geosmin is what gives beets their earthy flavor. Rain also picks up odors from the molecules it meets. So its essence can come off as differently as all the flowers on all the continents—rose-obvious, barely there like a carnation, fleeting as a whiff of orange blossom as your car speeds past the grove. It depends on the type of storm, the part of the world where it falls, and the subjective memory of the nose behind the sniff."
"City rain smells of steaming asphalt, in contrast to the grassy sweetness of rain in the countryside. Ocean rain smells briny like Maine clam flats on a falling tide. In the desert of the southwestern United States, rare storms punch the atmosphere with creosote and sage. In the southeast, frequent squalls leave the damp freshness of a wet pine forest. “Clean but funky,” Thomas Wolfe called the exquisite scent of the American South." Source: theatlantic.com
If you give this man a ride, sweet family will die
Killer on the road, yeah
Girl, you gotta love your man
Girl, you 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
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone, an actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Artists/Band: The Doors
Album: LA Woman
Credits: John Densmore / Robby Krieger / Ray Manzarek / Jim Morrison
Riders on the Storm was the last song Jim Morrison recorded with the Doors. He made a trip to France and died there. The single, Riders on the Storm" was released in June, 1971, Prior to it's release they performed the song live twice, Once in Dallas, and later in New Orleans.
"According to band member Robby Krieger, it was inspired by the song "(Ghost) Riders in the Sky: A Cowboy Legend". Also, Jim Morrison mentions spree killer Billy Cook, in passing, during at least one interview. Cook killed six people, including a young family, while hitchhiking to California. In all likelihood, the Cook murders were inspiration for the song's lyric, "There's a killer on the road/his brain is squirming like a toad/if you give this man a ride/sweet family will die.. " -wiki
"Morrison developed an alcohol dependency. He died at the age of 27 in Paris, allegedly of a heroin overdose. No autopsy was performed, and the exact cause of Morrison's death is still disputed. Jim Morrison's grave is located at Père Lachaise cemetery in eastern Paris." -wiki