Flowers, moonlight, sticky things   Songs that mean nothing, places I've been   Blood fruit, crying, old guitar strings   They're all softly poetic, smoothly obscene      When I use the word "You"   I don't know who I mean   If this song was a painting   It would be velveteen   When I use the word "You"   I don't know who I mean   If this song was a painting   It would be   Velveteen      I recall all those wasted snowflakes dying in the fall   And I remember those starry eyes, rose glasses bewitch me, saw that   Our words and our bodies will always flow, like the   Cool, clear stream on the rocks below      When I use the word "You"   I don't know who I mean   If this song was a painting   It would be velveteen   When I use the word "You"   I don't know who I mean   If this song was a painting   It would be   Velveteen      We sat on the beach at night, and it shone fantastic   And the lake after dark looks like, looks like burn plastic   We all need a space to fall down and grow   And it's so sickly-sweet like some bad T.V. show      When I use the word "You"   I don't know who I mean   If this song was a painting   It would be velveteen   When I use the word "You"   I don't know who I mean   If this song was a painting   It would be   Velveteen      Forgot that we used to say   "We all learn to fly some day"   I thought that was a (?)   But I was wrong