Death of a Martian - Red Hot Chili Peppers Letras de músicas - Letra da música Death of a Martian

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Death of a Martian letra

     Death of a Martian

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     Death of a Martian
    >> Red Hot Chili Peppers
     
        Bear paws and rascal power
    Watching us in your garage
    Big girl you ate the neighbor
    The nova is over
    Wake up and play
    Balleradio
    Make room for clara's bare feet
    The love of a martian
    Tick tock and waiting for the meteor
    This clock is opening another door
    Lots of love just keep it comin'
    Making something out of nothin'
    These are the best that I
    I don't know how to say
    Losin' what I love today
    These are the best that I
    Lots of love just keep it comin'
    Making something out of nothin'
    These are the best that I
    I don't know what to say
    Look at what I lost today
    And these are the things that I
    Blood flowers in the kitchen
    Signing off and winding down
    This martain ends her mission
    The nova is over
    She caught the ball
    By the mission bell
    Chase lizards bark at donkeys
    The love of a martian
    Let's bow our heads
    And let the trumpets blow
    Our girl is gone
    God bless her little soul
    (She's got sword in case
    Tho this is not her lord incase
    The one who can't afford to face
    Her image is restored to grace.
    Disappeared.
    No trace.
    Musky tears.
    Suitcase.
    The down turn brave
    Little burncub bearcareless turnip snare
    Rampages pitch color pages...
    Down and out but not in Vegas.
    Disembarks and disengages.
    No loft.
    Sweet pink canary cages plummet pop dewskin fortitude
    For the sniffing black noses that snort and allude
    To dangling trinkets that mimic the dirt cough go drink its.
    It's for you.
    Blue battered naval town slip kisses delivered by duck
    Muscles and bottlenosed grifters arrive in time to catch the late show.
    It's a beehive barrel race.
    A shehive stare and chase wasted feature who tried and failed to reach her.
    Embossed beneath a box in the closet that's lost.
    The kind that you find when you mind your own mysteries.
    Shiv sister to the quickness before it blisters into the newmorning milk blanket.
    Your ilk is funny to the turnstyle touch bunny who's bouquet set a course for bloom without decay.
    Get you broom and sweep the echoes of yesternights fallen freckles... away...)
     

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