Tekstovi: John Frusciante. The Will To Death. The Mirror.
:
Hit in the face when you open the door
Unconciderate to yourself
You are always out of tune to you
Stepping out from where you are
nevers angle is one for all
Fired by an unknown eye
Then wasn't always a place for you to cry
Everyone knows becoming's what you do
When you die
The face in the mirror is not me
How many times have you been to the back
No one to see
Nothing to laugh at
Going everywhere at once
Time does a crawl back to where it doesn't show
No one means me
When they say people don't grow
The face in the mirror is not me
Hit in the face when you open the door
Unconciderate to yourself
You are always out of tune to you
Stepping out from where you are
nevers angle is one for all
Fired by an unknown eye
Then wasn't always a place for you to cry
Everyone knows becoming's what you do
When you die
The face in the mirror is not me
How many times have you been to the back
No one to see
Nothing to laugh at
Going everywhere at once
Time does a crawl back to where it doesn't show
No one means me
When they say people don't grow
The face in the mirror is not me
Frusciante, John
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