Pictures on my wall,

Fifteen different colours,

Starting with vermillion-

The first flower of the summer,

And don't think I'll be finished

Till I've begun to understand this,

With you stretched out in the sunlight,

As your laughter fills my canvas

The sun falls in my fingers,

On your back against the blinds,

It's tracing out your hollows

It is filling in your lines,

There your curl finds your spiral

As you silhouette the window,

When my brush forgives itself

Spills lines upon your pillow,

Finds you standing in the middle

Of the lines you've laid down before

Try to trace my picture into yours

Let me paint you in the corner,

As your shoulders trap the light

See the sunset feeling golden

On the wineskins of the night

I have seen your eyes in paintings

As Cathedrals cried Hosanna

Let me paint your face in frescos

Hang your hair like Angelabra

See you standing in the middle

Of lines you laid down before,

Try to paint my picture into yours

In the morning let me find you

As I call to you by name,

Your body warm beside me

Not imprisoned in a frame

I could never find the colours

Or the light that finely paints you

With those roses in your hair

Smell of wine, immortal perfume

As you're standing in the middle

Of lines you laid down before

Tryin' to paint my picture into yours