He grabbed the microphone with both hands and put one boot on the base. He closed his eyes and tugged on the microphone. First it was too high. Then it was too low. Then he opened his mouth as if he was about to sing. Then he changed his mind and closed his mouth again.
On his face there was the look of suffering of someone who knows he is too beatiful to ever enjoy the true love.
Mr. Morrison writes the lyrics, and they are filled with the tension of him impatience: "Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection... We want the world and we want it now... Deliver me from reason, I'd rather fly..."