Death Of A Martian

Red Hot Chili Peppers · 4 音轨 · 123 小节 · 热度 1,036

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Red Hot Chili Peppers《Death Of A Martian》吉他谱:共 4 条音轨(John Frusciante | Gtr. 1、John Frusciante | Gtr. 2、John Frusciante | Gtr. 3、Flea | Bass),123 小节,时长约 4 分 17 秒,GP5 格式,支持在线播放与打印。

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关于 Red Hot Chili Peppers

如果我把91年的BLOOD SUGAR SEX MAGIK视为RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS风格最强烈的奠定性作品,大抵没有人会有异议.当年BOLLD SUGAR SEX MAGIK的出现,就仿佛是唱片监制RICK RUBIN为他们开拓了一个新的层次,标志着他们在音乐事业上的一段新里程,或者在商业成就上而言,唱片为人津JOHN FRUSCIANTE在第二年毅然选择离队,令乐队在89年所固定下来的四位一体的阵容再度瓦解,一下子BLOOD SUGAR SEX MAGIK为CHILI PEPPERS所写下的音乐成就仿佛显得无以为继.在前JANE'S ADDICTION吉他手DAVE NAVARO加入后于四年前发表的ONE HOT MINUTE只似是乐队的一个过渡期, CALIFORMICATION的最大意义与乐迷最引颈以待的因素,是JOHN跟乐队做出复合,让CHILI PE…

歌词歌曲页 →

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!!!