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Your lips are nettles
Your tongue is wine
laughter's liquid
But body's pine
You all sailors
But hate the beach
You say "Come me"
But you're always out of reach
In the dark
You tell me of a flower
That blooms
In the violet hour
are lovely
Yellow and rose
Your back`s a meadow
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
That only blooms
In the hour
I turn the lights out
I clean the sheets
You change the station
Turn up the heat
And now setting
Upon your chair
You`ve got me tangled up
Inside hair
In the dark you
Tell me of a flower
That only blooms
In the violet hour
In the dark
You me of a flower
only blooms
In the hour
Your tongue is wine
laughter's liquid
But body's pine
You all sailors
But hate the beach
You say "Come me"
But you're always out of reach
In the dark
You tell me of a flower
That blooms
In the violet hour
are lovely
Yellow and rose
Your back`s a meadow
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
That only blooms
In the hour
I turn the lights out
I clean the sheets
You change the station
Turn up the heat
And now setting
Upon your chair
You`ve got me tangled up
Inside hair
In the dark you
Tell me of a flower
That only blooms
In the violet hour
In the dark
You me of a flower
only blooms
In the hour
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