Can You Give Me Sanctuary?
Soon after the publication of the book titled “Jim Morrison: Ceremony” in 2005, I
continued working on the mysterious death of James Douglas Morrison and the
tale of the Oregon Cowboy.
I faced difficult times during the research process.
The complete lack of cooperation that I received from self professed
“investigative journalists” in America is uncountable. The fingers of only one
hand are enough to count the ones who at least showed some respect.
In February of 2009 I published “The Jim Morrison Manual
Case”, a written work that encouraged a group of people from Los Angeles, CA to
follow the steps of an investigation that was still open.
In July 2014 I was asked to join their team to help find
the pieces needed to finish the puzzle work, a big research process for a TV Documentary.
Today, I received a very nice note from Morrison’s
daughter which really took me by surprise -- He is not doing so well --
I feel sad, you know? He went through a lot of shit over
the years. I can feel the sadness in his eyes.
It took me a bit more than ten years
to finish my research. And, although I'm still waiting for that DNA performance to confirm his true identity, I know the work I did "inspired" those Hollywood snakes to move forward with the project under a different name because they knew they were doing things the wrong way.
My heart is at peace. I know the man who says to be James Douglas Morrison has been cooperative. He provided genuine material for a DNA test. I followed his
steps from when he was born to the present days in 2017, this man is in his 70s. It is not a secret that the name he lives under is William James Loyer, but what you people don't understand is that it isn't a false name, it isn't a name he just picked up by chance...
It must be sad for him to realize that people don’t care… and even worse is to see that people don't even understand the messages in his poetry.
The Soft Parade
The Doors
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,
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
