Awake
Jim Morrison Lyrics


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Is everybody in?
Is everybody in?
Is everybody in?
The ceremony is about to begin.

Wake up!

You can't remember where it was
Had this dream stopped?




Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Jim Morrison's song Awake are an invitation to join in a ceremony of awakening. The lines "Is everybody in?" repeated three times, signify everyone's readiness to participate in some kind of ritual or event. The line "The ceremony is about to begin" prepares the listener for a sensory experience that will involve ritual, performance, and perhaps a spiritual awakening.


The words "Wake up!" serve as an exclamation, urging the listener to pay attention, snap out of a daze, and engage with the experience. The second stanza then poses a question, "You can't remember where it was?" which might imply a sense of dislocation, a feeling that one has lost touch with something vital or significant. The idea of having a dream stopped suggests that one has been asleep and cut off from the world, perhaps because of some kind of trauma or emotional distress.


In this sense, the song's lyrics speak to the human desire for connection, both to other people and to the deeper aspects of oneself. The repetition of the phrase "Is everybody in?" serves as a call to be present, to be part of something bigger than oneself, and to connect with the world in genuine and meaningful ways. The song's invitation to wake up and engage with the world, to be present and aware in the here and now, is a timeless and universal message that continues to resonate with listeners today.


Line by Line Meaning

Is everybody in?
Has everyone arrived and is present?


Is everybody in?
Are we all here, fully engaged and attentive?


Is everybody in?
Is every person present and ready for what is to come?


The ceremony is about to begin.
The formal proceedings or rites are about to start.


Wake up!
Become alert and aware of your surroundings, both physically and mentally.


You can't remember where it was
You cannot recall the exact location or point in time of a past experience.


Had this dream stopped?
Did the dream experience end abruptly or lose its coherence?




Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Written by: Ray Manzarek, Jim Morrison, Robby Krieger, John Densmore

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Most interesting comments from YouTube:

Phikria Jgarkava

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.



Jane Flores

"Sacuda os sonhos do seu cabelo
Minha linda criança, minha querida.
Escolha o dia e escolha o sinal do seu dia
A divindade do dia
Primeira coisa que você vê.
A vasta e radiante praia na fria jóia lua
Casais nus correm tranquilamente
E nós rimos suavemente, crianças loucas
Cheias de si no cérebro de algodão da infância
A música e as vozes ao nosso redor
Escolha eles sussurrando os antigos
Aquele tempo veio outra vez
Escolha agora, eles sussurram
Sob a lua
Ao lado do antigo lago
Entre outra vez na doce floresta
Entre no quente sonho
Venha com a gente
Tudo se rompe e dança."



Theda Love

My 18 - yr. - old Poet's wake - up
Poem (not working yet ToDay - must play it louder for him)

Hablo español e inglés - espero que me entiendes. Es el poema más importante para mí hijo, especialmente por las mañanas - pero todavía no se despierta!!

Nunca oí Jim y los Doors cuando viví esta Vida, pero me parece él siempre ha estado conmigo ....
Nadie, ningún Poética ha tocado a mi Vida cómo
James Douglas Morrison, y he leído TANTO. Escribo, y a veces, veo la cara, o siento el alma de el genio ....
"Awake," todo el mundo!! Que aprendíamos las lecciones, las Verdades de Jim - él supo lo que iba a pasar a nuestro mundo, y nos
trató de ayudarnos caminar la jornada hacia un mundo mejor ....

💓PazAmorSonrisasMusica💓
💓PeaceLoveSmilesMusic💓
Su hermana
Your sister



cathy struska

Here's a mystical poem
Ghost Light

Idle wind through a field,
Turning silent in dusk.
Pale moon, alabaster in
Your presence,
A ghost passing through
Sudden stillness
Under an old Juniper,
Leaves browned in patchwork of a too dry
Summer. Sweet the mist
In the meadow.
Cool and damp,
A first frost
Not far behind.
One time-frame passing
To the other. Nothing
On an elliptical stopwatch,
Just a revolution of
One world spinning 360.
Eons but a lash
Falling to the floor.
Dear moon- you look
Rather drawn-
With the dark circles
Under your eyes.
Though your smile says
Your up for the night.
Truly an undertaking,
If you don't mind me
Saying so.. I've got to admit your fetching.
Though I'm taking the ludicrous to the arcane.
The frogs are rising
To the night.
What I want is a
Tilt A Whirl At the carnival
On the edge of town.
In the first cool of October
With the beakers and
The House Of Mirrors.
As the Tilt A Whirl spins
We laugh at circles
Of reds and blues.
As the Hucksters and the lost cling to the carny
Like a parasite.
And the carnival rolls
From town as quick
As it came, with a few
Extra wallets and one
Virginity. And I hear the
Trains in the distance
When the wind blows
North. I hear it
Mostly in the fall.
I saw them play the
Shell game in the
Bare bulbs near
The shadows.
My eyes fill
With the darkness.
A whistle falls away dreaming.
By TJ STRUSKA



cathy struska

A solitary poem
Two Solitary Souls

Stale beer cup/brand new bottle opener on a blue May evening. Cessna's and Cub's circle like drones with no map or meaning.
In this settled night, this stillness, a lone boy bounces a croquet mallet:
Tocka, Tocka, Tocka, the ball, the court, the mallet: Tocka, Tocka, Tocka, until he tires of this solitary habit. Him with his mallet,
Me with my pen.
Now and again, he seats it like a baseball. Across the court, into the fence.
Both of us left to silence after. Soon I hear: Tocka, Tocka, Tocka, as he retrieves his ball from the corner. Tocka, Tocka, Tocka, As I strain for words like a sad ape obsessed with a flea,
And finding none.
Soon the solitary boy with the ball leaves the courtyard to it's silence.
Its a isolated moment in
The American Fabric.

Into the mask of
Light and Shadow,
Shadow and Imagination.
A playwright, looking for a chorus, a melody. Summer silence and the race of engines. And voices overtake the silence
In the hours from ten til one. And the tires and the arguing. And sometimes the cops, or an ambulance
With bored fireman
And two paramedics.
And there's a drip in the hallway from the roof.
I guess it's not bewitching;
All the noise for those pockets of silence.
And I play Brahms,
And police turn down
My block. As the moon lurks pale behind my eyes.
By TJ STRUSKA



cathy struska

Sort of a psychedelic poem
Charge Up, Change Up,
Fuck Up, Forget It.
Somewhere Timothy Leary Found his smile In
Blue horizons I cannot name. Charge Up the
Dark horses dragging up
Vega. I know it's far,
But the Pony Express
Said No Problem..
Out here you bring Your
Own lunch. Best pack
For the long trip back.
Knapsack spilling with stars, Each one falling
Like lover's cloths To
Dusty corners we dream.
We awake as ghosts
Searching the inner ring.
Man, it got old around
Ginsberg. Staffing the pipe
For young strumpets.
You throw the Change Up
While the girl In the
Coke bottle red dress
Says were going dancing,
You, me and the stars.
Take in the mail on
The long flight up.
I hear ghosts In my head.
They find their way
Across the page.
Exact fare required for
The 715 across town.
Fuck Up, you ride
With the winos
And heads to the
End of the line.
With steel toe jackers
Overturning cars In
The mayhem.O well,
At least were plugged into the starlight convention
Playing above Nissans and Subarus. I forgot
To say hi to Alpha Sentory
As I shot in From
Inner space.
Well, I must admit It's ingenious.
While the night circles Neptune in the spot
Of the sun.
By TJ STRUSKA



cathy struska

Here's a real life poem when I was 16. Funny and true.
Get Off The Couch Before There's An Accident. You Know It's Reserved For My
Mother And The Dog.

It ain't lunch, it's my life,
Some pointed remark
In front of a friend,
And it stuck.
And my friend said
"Dude, what's your Ma's
Problem?"
And I said " Me".
And he said it was weird,
And I agreed.
And I was a captive stranger in the middle
Of this saga.
It was terse, a flimsy repose in our company.
My Dad rode her train,
And I most times
I got the stiff rebuttal.
And I was 16, and it
Sounded blase' to me.
But I didn't know shit either
Mostly listen to Hendrix,
Get stoned before school.
While inside it wasn't
Like that at all.

It was more a reflection,
A stirring in a pool.
Light dancing along
The edge of waking.
Definitely Fringe Dude.
Get off the couch Son,
That's reserved for the
Big Shot of the family.

Light burning black and glowing through the window. I'd crawl out
To the night.
Run the woods looking
For love slipping away.
And the rock n roll
Spiking my head.
And I'm smoking
And I'm holding.
And I'm a punk
And I know it.
And I'd slide out the door
With the LOOK from her.
And what I'd find was
Mostly an even keel
Of boredom.
A little pick up ball,
Maybe a joint down
The woods by
The bridge.
Mostly stupid shit,
Until I met Cathy.

And the levels changed
From green to red.
And the being
Of skin together.
Shadows and smells
Along a river of love.
500 miles long
Cresting to an ocean.
And the crest rose
Crashing against the rocks

And I wake to shiny pebbles.
I'm wet and naked.
I move toward
The moonlight,
Following it's sound.
The night opens
Like a flower.
By TJ STRUSKA
Christmas night 2004.



All comments from YouTube:

Chris Byars

This is my ‘go-to’ - song when I am experiencing insomnia. And it calms me down

Phikria Jgarkava

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.

Seattle Six

🤫 The unwoken fool cast dreams at the riverside, to awaken is a mournful light

Okean

Jim Morrison was, first and foremost, a superb poet.

Theda Love

Oh, yes, indeed!! I believe he put pen to paper and it was all there. I missed him in this LifeTime, (I miss him NOW!!) but I feel I have never been without him, my Muse!!

💓PeaceLoveSmilesMusic💓
Your sister

Dillon Lovette

Jim did what none of my teachers could ever do and that was to inspire too read and write

Hart Hendrix

Poetic Justice Those very words reciprocate into my soul as that very reason is why I've taken an interest in the literary arts.

Robert Cabrera

1917 j

carrollingJim

I was supposed to become a straight computer scientist...until the Doors greatest hits fell into my hands, so I agree with you. I was 14 by then and from there to 20 I read an awful lot and started digging poetry bigTime. Kudos to him.

Paul Blowes

@J. F.R., I'm 1977 but your story interests me enough to enquire about the substance and style of it, labelled as a felow writer myself I'd love to hear more. PSB77

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