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