The Doors- 'Highway Clown Boy'

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In the storm of life, riders we become,
Hitchhiking through fate, under the sun.
A tale of randomness, a cosmic game,
Luck's fickle dance, no two paths the same.


Glory and the end, bound at the hip,
A journey wild, on destiny's trip.
Eat, drink, be merry, the mantra we sing,
For tomorrow's unknown, like the wind's swift swing.


No eternal reward for wasting the dawn,
In the dance of chance, shadows are drawn.
Serial whispers in the highway's hum,
Seeking victims, a beat of the drum.


Jim's vision echoes, in corridors of time,
A film of life, a rhythm, a rhyme.
The Doors swing open to the unknown,
As we ride on the storm, in life's cyclone.


Ephemeral moments, like raindrops they fall,
In the cosmic theater, we play our role.
Embrace the chaos, the thrill, the ride,
In the randomness of life, no place to hide.


So dance in the storm, with passion and grace,
As riders on the highway, in this vast space.
For glory and end, intertwined in the mist,
A journey profound, a wild, cosmic twist.