歌曲 | Untitled #12 |
歌手 | John Frusciante |
专辑 | Niandra LaDes And Usually Just A T-Shirt |
Blind your head in catastrophe icicles | |
No-one's fed in cycles led by cycles dead | |
Ask to shine the flag | |
Love is distance and blue sits like apples bite | |
And flows through our hands | |
I said &hi' to a man who shot his sister | |
Panned through the station | |
And jumped in front of a train | |
Said i'm a bit confused to meet you | |
Life's what scissors do to a day | |
So their smiles pave the way | |
Sand drips with waves | |
And clouds my head cuz i'm a fortune fellah's bed | |
And i'm the tunes played by the goons | |
Who ride in fairy's wombs | |
And stole the road the other way | |
And sold tomorrow to yesterday and | |
I know the feeling of pushing you out of a building | |
Tiny people pulsating hit the sky | |
Still the ground got up and wiped your face | |
You expected to fly, wind up your misfortune | |
Sling &em to a maitre-dee | |
Who wears dead butterflies on his face | |
And is hoping to grow wings | |
He really wants to tell you | |
&hey give your tears to today' | |
Grind yourself souvenirs under your stolen years | |
Hands in your pockets | |
Your hands getting numb been hurt in grinds jive | |
Do the avenues that seem to meet defeat you | |
Did you ever try to hug the sky behind your head | |
I walked forever sightseeing a screen | |
Shuffled a mean green ping | |
Dives head first into a hole in the water | |
Drives side to side like a floating machine | |
Dove dancing to a fable told to a sea of disintegration | |
Crawl to a celebration of dirt that leaves that taste of wine | |
Sucked from a hair that digs into the darkness | |
Full of the fair that my head rides. | |
I slide your kind through a ladder | |
Hanging on a star | |
Stray close so far | |
Away from the climb | |
A tape like section of introspection | |
To rewind would be to recline. | |
Hit the pounds underlying gently | |
Ride on the side | |
Tell your problems to zero | |
He's got nothing to hide. |
Blind your head in catastrophe icicles | |
Noone' s fed in cycles led by cycles dead | |
Ask to shine the flag | |
Love is distance and blue sits like apples bite | |
And flows through our hands | |
I said hi' to a man who shot his sister | |
Panned through the station | |
And jumped in front of a train | |
Said i' m a bit confused to meet you | |
Life' s what scissors do to a day | |
So their smiles pave the way | |
Sand drips with waves | |
And clouds my head cuz i' m a fortune fellah' s bed | |
And i' m the tunes played by the goons | |
Who ride in fairy' s wombs | |
And stole the road the other way | |
And sold tomorrow to yesterday and | |
I know the feeling of pushing you out of a building | |
Tiny people pulsating hit the sky | |
Still the ground got up and wiped your face | |
You expected to fly, wind up your misfortune | |
Sling em to a maitredee | |
Who wears dead butterflies on his face | |
And is hoping to grow wings | |
He really wants to tell you | |
hey give your tears to today' | |
Grind yourself souvenirs under your stolen years | |
Hands in your pockets | |
Your hands getting numb been hurt in grinds jive | |
Do the avenues that seem to meet defeat you | |
Did you ever try to hug the sky behind your head | |
I walked forever sightseeing a screen | |
Shuffled a mean green ping | |
Dives head first into a hole in the water | |
Drives side to side like a floating machine | |
Dove dancing to a fable told to a sea of disintegration | |
Crawl to a celebration of dirt that leaves that taste of wine | |
Sucked from a hair that digs into the darkness | |
Full of the fair that my head rides. | |
I slide your kind through a ladder | |
Hanging on a star | |
Stray close so far | |
Away from the climb | |
A tape like section of introspection | |
To rewind would be to recline. | |
Hit the pounds underlying gently | |
Ride on the side | |
Tell your problems to zero | |
He' s got nothing to hide. |