How High Lyrics - John Frusciante

We met you through your fortune 

You're made of high 

We slipped through the streams of the city 

We slip your mind 

How high, how high? 

Past life 

How high, how high? 

Leave your body 

You leave the past in a field 

When your odds are timed 

When you stand in a plane 

This ground does rise 

How high, how high? 

Past life 

How high, how high? 

Leave your body