The Violet Hour

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

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 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 your beautiful black 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