Awake. 
Shake dreams from your hair 
My pretty child, my sweet one. 
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day 
The day's divinity 
First thing you see. 

A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon 
Couples naked race down by it's quiet side 
And we laugh like soft, mad children 
Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy 
The music and voices are all around us. 

Choose they croon the ancient ones 
The time has come again 
Choose now, they croon 
Beneath the moon 
Beside an ancient lake 

Enter again the sweet forest 
Enter the hot dream 
Come with us 
Everything is broken up and dances. 

Indians scattered, 
On dawn's highway bleeding 
Ghosts crowd the young child's, 
Fragile eggshell mind 

We have assembled inside, 
This ancient and insane theater 
To propagate our lust for life, 
And flee the swarming wisdom of the streets. 

The barns have stormed 
The windows kept, 
And only one of all the rest 
To dance and save us 
From the divine mockery of words, 
Music inflames temperament. 

Ooh great creator of being 
Grant us one more hour, 
To perform our art 
And perfect our lives. 

We need great golden copulations, 

When the true kings murderers 
Are allowed to roam free, 
A thousand magicians arise in the land 
Where are the feast we are promised?