Tytuł: Mascara

• Wykonawca: John Frusciante
• Wyświetleń: 281

  
   There's a powdered sun dripping through a porthole
  In a set design
  Can you read your name
  It's been so long since we bloomed from the inside
  So where have you been since you fell off the flat edge
  Of a world under nothing sky
  You've been lying rye
  They claim men you dance under the moonlight
  Do what you think is the sum
  Buts it a flesh and blood of a
  Dismembered gone assembly
  In four thousands of your years
  
  Voice 1: You felt like history in your thighs
  Voice 2: You get four red candles
  
  Voice 2: On the table with your penis I arise
  Voice 1: You're the one that makes me realize
  
  Voice 1: With water flowing through to tomorrow
  Voice 2: Glued to your addiction
  Voice 1: Apples and cake must have been your mistake
  Voice 2: but the smile you send in my direction
  
  Voice 1: Makes me feel like I'm alive
  
  Voice 1: You're hidden by your wooden legs
  Voice 2: You're my kind, You're my kind
  
  Voice 2: You always make me feel like a moon in my life
  
  Voice 1: Staring down at the world's head, all the time
  
  Voice 2: It always makes me feel good to know you're alive, wrapping your
  ties
  
  Voice 1: Down by the whirlpool, I finally realized you must have built
  in your snake, your little dark house
  
  Voice 1: I've been insane well the time is slow
  
  Voice 2: I've been to a society whith you can't see yourself and you can't
  feel sunshine
  
  Voice 2: And if you see me roaming the hillside won't you come along? It's
  a hard road to the top of yourself. You'll always be alone.
  
  Voice 1: The Pope don't matter when the pawn is your sea, don't you agree?
  
  Voice 2: I like you in my love, feels good just to know I can love
  someone like you. They'll make it hard for you choose. I can understand but
  when you see creation coming you close your eyes. And To you I'm sure it's no
  surprise that I could be one of the dead. Thank god my underwear's full of
  lead without you. Without you.
  
  Voice 1: When you're around I'm wound around your thumb. You wanna be numb
  inside the gun. All your different lights are one big fight against the
  baby inside that you've mistaken for pain.