In the morning let me find you
It is filling in your lines
As you silhouette the window
I have seen your eyes in paintings
Let me paint your face in frescoes
Or the light that finely paints you
As your shoulders trap the light
On your back against the blinds
Starting with vermilion
With those roses in your hair
Spills lines upon your pillow
Try to paint my picture into yours
The sun falls in my fingers
Finds you standing in the middle
It's tracing out your hollows
Your body warm beside me
As your laughter fills my canvas
And don't think I'll be finished
Let me paint you in the corner
See the sunset feeling golden
Till I've begun to understand this
The first flower of the summer
When my brush forgives itself
On the wine skins of the night
Of the lines you've laid down before
Hang your hair like Angelabra
See you standing in the middle
Of lines you laid down before
Try to trace my picture into yours
As you're standing in the middle
Smell of wine, immortal perfume
Of lines you laid down before
I could never find the colors
With you stretched out in the sunlight
Not imprisoned in a frame
There your curl finds your spiral
As Cathedrals cried Hosanna
As I call to you by name
