Your lips are nettles,
|
Your tongue is wine.
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Your laughter's liquid,
|
But your body's pine.
|
You love all sailors,
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But hate the beach.
|
You say come touch me
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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.
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Your back's a meadow,
|
covered in snow.
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Your thigh's are thistles,
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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]
|
|
-----------------
|
The Violet Hour
|
Sea Wolf |