When I was back there in seminary school, there was a person there who put forth the proposition that you can petition the Lord with prayer.
Petition the lord with prayer. Petition the lord with prayer.
YOU CANNOT PETITION THE LORD WITH PRAYER!
Can you give me sanctuary?
I must find a place to hide
A place for me to hide
Can you find me soft asylum?
I can't make it anymore
The Man is at the door
Peppermint
Miniskirts
Chocolate candy
Champion sax and a girl named Sandy
There's only four ways to get unraveled
One is to sleep and the other is travel, da da
One is a bandit up in the hills
One is to love your neighbor 'till
His wife gets home
Catacombs
Nursery bones
Winter women growing stones
Carrying babies to the river
Streets and shoes
Avenues
Leather riders
Selling news
The monk
Bought
Lunch
(Ha ha, he bought a little, Yes, he did, Woo!)
(This is the best part of the trip, this is the trip... the best part... I really like)
(What'd he say? Yeah! Yeah, right!)
(Pretty good, huh, Huh! Yeah, I'm proud to be a part of this number)
Successful hills are here to stay
Everything must be this way
Gentle streets where people play
Welcome to the Soft Parade
All our lives we sweat and save
Building for a shallow grave
Must be something else we say
Somehow to defend this place
Everything must be this way
Everything must be this way, yeah
The Soft Parade has now begun
Listen to the engines hum
People out to have some fun
A cobra on my left
Leopard on my right, yeah
The deer woman in a silk dress
Girls with beads around their necks
Kiss the hunter of the green vest
Who has wrestled before
With lions in the night
Out of sight!
The lights are getting brighter
The radio is moaning
Calling to the dogs
There are still a few animals, left out in the yard
But it's getting harder
To describe sailors
To the underfed
Tropic corridor
Tropic treasure
What got us this far
To this mild equator?
We need someone or something new
Something else to get us through, yeah, c'mon
Callin' on the dogs...
Callin' on the dogs...
Oh, it's gettin' harder
Callin' on the dogs...
Callin' in the dogs...
Callin' all the dogs...
Callin' on the gods...
You gotta meet me
Too late, baby
Slay a few animals
At the crossroads
Too late
All in the yard
But it's gettin' harder
By the crossroads
You gotta meet me
Oh, we're goin', we're goin great
At the edge of town
Tropic corridor
Tropic treasure
Havin' a good time
Got to come along
What got us this far
To this mild equator?
Outskirts of the city
You and I
We need someone new
Somethin' new
Somethin' else to get us through
Better bring your gun
Better bring your gun
Tropic corridor
Tropic treasure
We're gonna ride and have some fun...
When all else fails, we can whip the horse's eyes, and make them sleep, and cry.
