Text/Music: Anthony Kiedis, Michael Peter Balzary (Flea), John Frusciante, Chad Smith

She's only eighteen
Don't like the rollin' stone
She took a short cut
To be in fully grown
She got the mood ring
Her little sister rose
A smell of Springstein
A pair of pantyhose

Destructing pages show is leaking from a silhouette
She said my man you know its time to get your fingers wet
You hussle faster when you can't afford a cigarette
The last I heared from you you were screamin' Lavallette

Knock to world
Right off its feet and straight onto its head
Oopala,
We're lonely laughing after you are dead
Fascinated
By the look of you and what was said
Make a play
For all the brightest minds in life will share

. . . . . .

I heard some P-Funk
Out on the road again
To get your head shrunk
Is what I recommend
It's on your bloodline
A perfect Frankenstein
Out on the lone kind
I'm gonna make you mine

It's understood you wrap your voodoo right around my neck
You got some glitter on your kitty at the discotheque
I'll put my lovin' in your oven not a head to check
The last I heard from you, you were screaming resurrect

Knock the world
Right off its feet and straight onto its head
Book of love
Will long be laughing after you are dead
Fascinated
By the look of you and what was said
Make a play
For all the brightest minds and light will shed

. . . . . .

Knock the world
Right off its feet and straight onto its head
Book of love
Will long be laughing after you are dead
Fascinated
By the look of you and what was said
Make a play
For all the brightest minds and light will shed