Lions in the street and roaming,
Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming,
A beast caged in the heart of the city.
The body of his mother lying in the summer ground,
He fled the town.
Went down south across the border,
Left the chaos and disorder
Back there, over his shoulder.
One morning he awoke in a green hotel,
A strange creature groaning beside him.
Sweat oozed from its shiny skin.
Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin.
- -- Jim Morrison, "Celebration of the Lizard"