Your lips are nettles,
Your tongue is wine.
Your laughter's liquid,
But your 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 the flower
That only blooms in the violet hour.
Your arms are lovely,
yellow and rose.
Your back's a meadow,
covered in snow.
Your thigh's are thistles,
and hot-house grapes.
You breath your sweet breath
and have me wait.
In the dark you tell me of the flower.
That only blooms in the violet hour.
I turn the lights out,
and change the sheets.
You change the station,
turn up the heat.
And now your sitting,
upon your chair.
You've got me tangled up,
inside your beautiful black hair....
In the dark you tell me of the flower.
That only blooms in the violet hour. [x4]
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