Untitled #3
John Frusciante
A dove is a glove
That I wear on my heart
And though I'd like to dress smart
It doesn't have any part of the world of fashion
And you're there to put me down
And I'm sick of the frowns that follow me around
I would like the sky, but there's no reason why
I should say to this world with the nose of a girl
It's turned up so loud that it erases the clouds
I've never been here and though you're physically near
You're pushing me away to decay like the day that I loved
It's as real as the girl, blabbing nothing outside my window
What do I have to show
To a world that the only way to destroy
Is to die like a baby boy
I could be happy in infinity
Of the space in my eyelid
But I know I'm somewhere else
Where the words on this page
Would be the scribbling nonsense they are
And it would be real
And I eat my last meal
Wish that I could feel
But now I don't even know, if I'm real
