标题:Death of a Martian
标签:总谱
艺人:Red Hot Chili Peppers
专辑:Stadium Arcadium : Mars
作词:A. Kiedis, J. Frusciante, Flea, & C. Smith
作曲:A. Kiedis, J. Frusciante, Flea, & C. Smith
制谱人:Reznik00
节拍:♩ = 115
音轨:
- John Frusciante | Gtr. 1 - 清音电吉他 Electric Guitar (clean)
- John Frusciante | Gtr. 2 - 失真音效吉他 Distortion Guitar
- John Frusciante | Gtr. 3 - 失真音效吉他 Distortion Guitar
- Flea | Bass - 指拨电贝司 Electric Bass(finger)
注释:* w/ Phaser* Phaser off* w/ Phaser* Phaser off* w/ Dist.
标记:IntroVerse 1Chorus 1InterludeVerse 2Chorus 2InterludeOutro
歌词:
Bear paws and rascal power
Watching us in your garage
Big girl you ate the neighbor
The nova is over
Wake up and play
By the radio
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've 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 head
And let the trumpets blow
Our girl is gone
God bless her little soul
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've lost today
And these are the things that I
She's got a sword in case though this is not her lord in case 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 the 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 business. Shiv sister to the quickness before it blisters into the newmorning milk blanket. Your ilk is funny to the turnstyle touch bunny whose bouquet set a course for bloom without decay. get your broom and sweep echoes of yesternights fallen freckles...AWAY!!!
