Jim Morrison

I am thirty-five and I'm very much alive

I mean, Jim Morrison was just a little kid when he died

There's the story of Icarus and his fall

And something follows me around that connects me to it all

I get the feeling it is growing stronger lately

I tried to hose it down with the whitest paint of all

But this shadow of mine still drives me crazy

Standing dark and threateningly erect against the wall

It takes a man to love you, baby

It takes a man to love you, baby

I'm still wondering what's worse, your mediocre sins

Or that you're writing for everyone's approval again?

But then again me, whenever I get lonely

I start writing for you and your approval only

So what was I supposed to do with you, babe?

I know you love your combination of poetry and jazz

Well, I'm eloquent, but not that eloquent

I can state something profound about your tits and ass

It takes a man to love you, baby

It takes a man to love you, baby

I am dangerous, but I'm discreet about violence

I'm the midnight hour striking the city clock in silence

I'm dangerous, but I'm discreet about violence

Till they're turning up the heat and I'm burning up in fire

In Papa New Guinea, there lives a tribe

Who turn the boys into men with a rite

They believe they have to consume the semen of the adults so their maturity can take shape

Well, that's fucking weird

I guess I should have blown a man before I met you, babe

Yeah, I fought a holy war, but believing I did not

Until they showed me the wall where the infidels were shot

I hung around for the chase till I lost track of the scent

Then I joined the statisticians for 33 percent

Then I hung around with the spiritual

But they had a pissing test I just couldn't beat

So I joined the prophets of bad weather

Until one day my sunglasses betrayed me

It takes a man to love you, baby

It takes a man to love you, baby

There's a woodpecker that keeps me up at night

You just wait for that tree to come down on my pride

I'm obsessing over my artist life

I'm obsessed with the idea of being obsessed with an artist life, you see

And I'm working on an idea David Bowie had ages before me

But I just keep grinding away at the factory

'Cause I'm thirty-five and I'm very much alive

I mean, Jim Morrison was just a little kid when he died

Gonna live a good life, gonna live a straight life

The moment I figure out what the fuck that looks like

Well, one day they made it clear that the teaching had begun

I saw how to kill a boy who's outnumbered five to one

Hair grew in places where it was not supposed to grow

I wanted to be mature but not so mature that it would show

It takes a man to love you, baby

It takes a man to love you, baby

It takes a man to love you, baby

It takes a man to love you, baby

I would talk bad about my mother for you

But please don't ask me to

I would fall on my sword for you

But please don't ask me to

I would step into Indian traffic for you

But please don't ask me to

I would draw all the prophets for you

But please don't ask me to

I would pull a stranger's hair out the shower drain for you

But please

I would take a walk on the Kinsey scale for you

Well, we both know that's not true

It's just what I have to tell myself I did for you

It takes a man to love you, baby

It takes a man to love you, baby

It takes a man to love you, baby

It takes a man to love you, baby