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