Blue light setting lotus style in your A-frame in the countryside Stillness slides the door and walks inside Candle on the windowsill Burnt wickless through our low-lit meal Heaven only knows the things you hide
In your blue eyes, in your sly smile
Tangerine on both your hands Smells strong as the tobacco can Roll me up a smoke if you don't mind Touch me like that afternoon When your friends would all be over soon And you said, "what the hell, we'll make the time"