The Violet Hour

Your lips are nettles 
Your tongue is wine 
You're left as liquid 
But your body's pine 

You love all sailors 
But hate the beach 
You say [bad word] touch me 
But you're always out of reach 

In the dark you tell me of a flower 
that only blooms in the violet hour 

Your arms are lovely 
Yellow and rose 
Your back`s a meadow 
Covered in snow 

Your thighs are thistles 
and hot-house grapes 
You breathe your sweet breath 
And have me wait 

In the dark you tell me of a flower 
that only blooms in the violet hour 

I turn the lights out 
I clean the sheets 
You change the station 
Turn up the heat 

And now you`re sitting 
Upon your chair 
You`ve got me tangled up 
Inside a beautiful... 

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 

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