Interpret:

Doors, The

Album:

An American Prayer

Gently they stir, gently rise 
The dead are newborn awakening 
With ravaged limbs and wet souls 
Gently they sigh in rapt funeral amazement 
Who called these dead to dance? 
Was it the young woman learning to play the ghost song on her baby grand? 
Was it the wilderness children? 
Was it the ghost god himself, stuttering, cheering, chatting blindly? 
I called you up to anoint the earth 
I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin 
I called you to wish you well 
To glory in self like a new monster 
And now I call you to pray