About the song

“The Ghost Song” is a poem written by Jim Morrison, the iconic frontman of The Doors. It was not originally a song but was later set to music and released on the Doors’ album An American Prayer in 1978, after Morrison’s death.

Background

The poem is believed to have been written in the late 1960s and reflects Morrison’s fascination with death, spirituality, and Native American culture. The lyrics are cryptic and open to interpretation, but many believe they explore themes of loss, transcendence, and the search for meaning in life.

Themes

  • Death and Mortality: The poem opens with a vivid image of death and violence, setting the tone for the exploration of mortality that follows.
  • Spirituality and Transcendence: The references to “ghosts” and the “fragile eggshell mind” suggest a search for spiritual meaning beyond the physical world.
  • The Search for Meaning: The poem reflects a yearning to escape the mundane and find deeper meaning in life through art, music, and spiritual experiences.
  • The Power of Music and Art: The lyrics celebrate music as a life-affirming force and emphasize the importance of creative expression.

Overall

“The Ghost Song” is a complex and haunting poem that has resonated with listeners for decades. Its themes of death, spirituality, and the search for meaning continue to intrigue and inspire.

Please note that this is a simplified explanation, and the poem is open to various interpretations. You can find the full lyrics and further analysis online if you’re interested in diving deeper.

Video

Lyrics

Awake
Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet oneChoose the day and choose the sign of your dayThe day’s divinityFirst thing you see
A vast radiant beach and a cool jeweled moonCouples naked race down by its quiet sideAnd we laugh like soft mad childrenSmug in the wooly cotton brains of infancyThe music and voices are all around us
Choose they croon the ancient onesThe time has come againChoose now, they croonBeneath the moon beside an ancient lakeEnter again the sweet forest, enter the hot dreamCome with us, everything is broken up and dances
Indians scattered on dawn’s highway bleedingGhosts crowd the young child’s fragile egg-shell mind