John Frusciante Mascara Letras:
There's a belt of sun dripping through a porthole
In a set design Can you read your name? It's been
so long since we blew from the inside So where
have you been since you fell off the flat edge Of
the world under an ugly sky You've been lying by
But they meant you, dance under the moonlight Do
what you think is the sum Of the flesh and blood
Above there's small birds gone to trembling In for
thousands of your years

[Voice 1:] You felt like crystal in your thighs
[Voice 2:] You get four red candles [Voice 2:] On
the table with your penis by your eyes [Voice 1:]
You're the one that makes me realize [Voice 1:]
Big water flowing through to tomorrow [Voice 2:]
Through to your vacation [Voice 1:] Apples and
cake must have been your stake [Voice 2:] ?
[something about "a gallon of wine"] but
the smile you send in my direction [Both: Makes me
feel like I'm alive [Voice 1:] You're hidden by
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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:] Stay here in down at
the world's edge, for a 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 bittenyour snake,
Your little guy [Voice 1:] I've been insane well
the time is slow [Voice 2:] I've been to a society
where 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 all gone 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, makes me feel 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 the
tears coming you close Your eyes. 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 delights are one big
fight against thebaby inside that you've mistaken
for pain.
Letras: Mascara John Frusciante [final]