You CANNOT petition the Lord with prayer!

This will be by far my hardest post ever.
I am not a freak loving an idol. Jim was no beacon for me, but he was something more.
The man died hard. You can say he died in his sleep, overdosed, but he did not.
He started dieing at around age 4. He experienced being crushed by false humanity for years. He lived in this strange place knowing that nothing was quite right and he asked you to see it too...
Nobody listened.
Today is today and hate to say it but he was right.
Your religions (I am a Christian in full & a son of God), but most religions are fakes. Governments take a look, see three good churches and can't stop Gods word so they try a different approach.
They build 1993 fake churches around the real three, just to make it hard for you to find the real 3.

James Morrison did give his life for honesty!

Below a quick 1/2 info quote on James Douglas Morrison and below that a link for more & then as usual (the best is for last) a song about his understandings on bully-shit religion.

NOTE: I have prayed Jim met the honest God before he died for real...

---Begin Quote---
James Douglas Morrison (December 8, 1943—July 3, 1971) was an American singer, songwriter, poet, writer and film maker. He is best known as the lead singer and lyricist of The Doors and is widely considered to be one of the most charismatic frontmen in rock music history.[2] He was also the author of several books of poetry[2] and the director of a documentary and short film. Although Morrison was known for his baritone vocals, many fans, scholars and journalists alike have referenced his theatrical stage persona, self-destructive lifestyle and his work as a poet.[3]

Morrison was born in Melbourne, Florida, to future Admiral George Stephen Morrison and Clara Clarke Morrison. Morrison had a sister, Anne Robin, who was born in 1947 in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and a brother, Andrew Lee Morrison, who was born in 1948 in Los Altos, California. He was of Scottish and Irish ethnic heritage.[4] He purportedly had an I.Q. of 150.[5][6]

In 1947, Morrison, then four years old, allegedly witnessed a car accident in the desert, where a family of Native Americans were injured and possibly killed. He referred to this incident in a spoken word performance on the song "Dawn's Highway" from the album An American Prayer, and again in the songs "Peace Frog" and "Ghost Song".

Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind

Morrison believed the incident to be the most formative event in his life and made repeated references to it in the imagery in his songs, poems and interviews. Interestingly, his family does not recall this incident happening in the way he told it. According to the Morrison biography No One Here Gets Out Alive, Morrison's family did drive past a car accident on an Indian reservation when he was a child, and he was very upset by it. However, the book The Doors written by the remaining members of The Doors, explains how different Morrison's account of the incident was from the account of his father. This book quotes his father as saying, "We went by several Indians. It did make an impression on him [the young James]. He always thought about that crying Indian." This is contrasted sharply with Morrison's tale of "Indians scattered all over the highway, bleeding to death". In the same book, his sister is quoted as saying, "He enjoyed telling that story and exaggerating it. He said he saw a dead Indian by the side of the road, and I don't even know if that's true."
---End Quote---
Rest of Wiki page is [here]

Now song "best for last"

The Soft Parade [link]


Lyrics:

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 at dawn.
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.

He he he, 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 it.

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. Aah, yeah!

The Soft Parade has now begun
Listen to the engines hum.
People out to have some fun,
Cobra on my left,
Leopard on my right, yeah.

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!

1st voice 2nd voice 3rd voice
Callin' on the dogs,
Callin' on the dogs,
But it's gettin' harder Callin' on the dogs,
Callin' in the dogs,
Callin' on the dogs,
Callin' on the gods.
You gotta
Meet me Too late, baby!
Shoot a few animals аt the crossroads Too late!
let out in the yard.
But it's getting harder Whoa!
Gotta meet me You’ve done great, hey!
at the edge of town, Having a good time.
You’d better come along
outskirts of the city Let’s fun!
Just you and I
and the evening sky. We are so alone.
Better bring your gun You’d better come along.
You’d better bring your gun.
We’re gonna have some fun! Tropic corridor
Tropic treasure.
“When all else fails,
We can whip the horse's
Eyes and make them sleep
and cry.”