John Frusciante

Cut-Out

Your nubmer fakes coming a long without you
Knowing a shift took place
your father hooks a wing about you
If you flail this broken sword arround you'll
Cut nothing up
Again well face these things when they're dead issues
Moments take each others place
Born and forgotten the same way
Hey, Ill pay you to cut me out
A blower of hot flesh is a baby
That's the first white stuff I suched
To feed this open fire with a windy day
Moments take each others place
Born and forgotten the same way
Never Knowing who you are