John Frusciante Mascara song lyrics

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 your own 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 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 bitten

your 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 the

baby inside that you've mistaken for pain.