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Your lips are nettlesYour tongue is wineYou're left as liquidBut your body's pineYou love all sailorsBut hate the beachYou say "Come touch meBut you're always out of reachIn the dark you tell me of a flowerthat only blooms in the violet hourYour arms are lovelyYellow and roseYour back`s a meadowCovered in snowYour thighs are thistlesand hot-house grapesYou breathe your sweet breathAnd have me waitIn the dark you tell me of a flowerthat only blooms in the violet hourI turn the lights outI clean the sheetsYou change the stationTurn up the heatAnd now you`re sittingUpon your chairYou`ve got me tangled upInside a beautiful...In the dark you tell me of a flowerthat only blooms in the violet hourIn the dark you tell me of a flowerthat only blooms in the violet hourIn the dark you tell me of a flowerthat only blooms in the violet hourIn the dark you tell me of a flowerthat only blooms in the violet hour
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