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Your are nettles
Your is wine
Your laughter's liquid
But body's pine
You all sailors
But hate the beach
You say "Come touch me"
But you're always out of reach
In the dark
You me of a flower
That only blooms
In the violet hour
Your arms are lovely
Yellow and rose
back`s a meadow
Covered in snow
Your are thistles
And hot-house grapes
You your sweet breath
And me wait
In the dark
You tell me of a flower
only blooms
In the hour
I turn the out
I the sheets
You change the station
Turn up the heat
And now setting
Upon your chair
You`ve got me tangled up
your beautiful black hair
In the you
Tell me of a flower
That only blooms
In the violet hour
In the dark
You me of a flower
only blooms
In the violet hour
Your is wine
Your laughter's liquid
But body's pine
You all sailors
But hate the beach
You say "Come touch me"
But you're always out of reach
In the dark
You me of a flower
That only blooms
In the violet hour
Your arms are lovely
Yellow and rose
back`s a meadow
Covered in snow
Your are thistles
And hot-house grapes
You your sweet breath
And me wait
In the dark
You tell me of a flower
only blooms
In the hour
I turn the out
I the sheets
You change the station
Turn up the heat
And now setting
Upon your chair
You`ve got me tangled up
your beautiful black hair
In the you
Tell me of a flower
That only blooms
In the violet hour
In the dark
You me of a flower
only blooms
In the violet hour
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