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"
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 setting
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
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
- - - - - - - -
Твои губы обжигают, как крапива,
Твой язык – вино,
Твой смех льётся, как вода,
А твоё тело стройно, как сосна.
Ты любишь всех моряков,
Но ненавидишь пляж.
Ты говоришь «Прикоснись ко мне»,
Но до тебя никогда не дотянуться.
Во тьме ты говоришь мне о цветке,
Который расцветает только в час фиалок.
Твои руки великолепны,
Светлые и румяные,
Твоя спина – словно луг,
Занесённый снегом.
Твои бёдра – словно прекрасные цветы
И тепличный виноград.
Ты делаешь свои сладкие вздохи,
И заставляешь меня ждать.
Во тьме ты говоришь мне о цветке,
Который расцветает только в час фиалок...
Я выключаю свет,
Я очищаю простыни,
Ты переключаешь радиостанцию
И включаешь отопление.
А теперь ты сидишь
На своём стуле.
Я запутался
В твоих прекрасных тёмных волосах...
Во тьме ты говоришь мне о цветке,
Который расцветает только в час фиалок...
Во тьме ты говоришь мне о цветке,
Который расцветает только в час фиалок...
Во тьме ты говоришь мне о цветке,
Который расцветает только в час фиалок...
Во тьме ты говоришь мне о цветке,
Который расцветает только в час фиалок...
Your lips are nettles
Your tongue is wine
Your laughter liquid
But your body's pine
You love all sailors
But hate the beach
You say & quot; Come touch me & quot;
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 setting
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
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
- - - - - - - -
Your lips burned like nettle,
Your tongue - wine,
Your laughter pours like water,
And your body is slender, like pine.
You love all sailors
But hate the beach.
You say, "Touch me"
But before you ever reach.
In the dark you tell me of a flower,
Which blooms only in the hour of violets.
Your hands are great,
The bright and rosy,
Your back - like a meadow,
Unit tunes snow.
Your hips - like beautiful flowers
And hothouse grapes.
You make your sweet sighs,
And make me wait.
In the dark you tell me of a flower,
Which blooms only in the hour of violets ...
I turn off the light,
I purify sheets
You change stations
And includes heating.
And now you're sitting
In his chair.
I got confused
In your beautiful dark hair ...
In the dark you tell me of a flower,
Which blooms only in the hour of violets ...
In the dark you tell me of a flower,
Which blooms only in the hour of violets ...
In the dark you tell me of a flower,
Which blooms only in the hour of violets ...
In the dark you tell me of a flower,
Which blooms only in the hour of violets ...
