String me up
(Strung up)

She is the thesis of
a serpent like love.
I’m on the train tracks now
and it shouldn’t be long
before I cut open animals;
that know the words and sing along.

Oh, it’s such a lovely color;
I wish that you’d wear it more often,
but if rosebuds take flight twice
bury my name.

Sex! Alas! I’m a vortex
and lies fall asleep on your riverbeds.
I’m not going back tomorrow, or any day,
so that smiling treason will have to wait.

Oh, it’s such a lovely color;
I wish that you’d wear it more often.
If tree lines assimilate me,
there’ll be hell to pay.

The night I met her we felt like leopards;
we had them long incisor teeth
with which to bite each other.
Sometime after Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas,
when it was starting to be warm
and seeds were starting to turn into flowers,
we fell hard and deeply out of love.
It was neither of our faults,
but I always blame myself
late during those nights
when I evade all that sleep.
It’s as if she was the beginning,
where as I was the end.

On that day last fall
we left each other in the best of spirits.
I drove your car
through the quiet dark Portland fog.
You captivate me
as if I was a queasy aloof patron.
You captured me
and spilled my blood on your apron.

You are the bane of my existence, girl.

You are not the displaced child I met.
(You are not the quiet child I met)
You just destroyed me!
You are waging war with a powerful enemy.
Remember, I created you, I constructed you.

Lyrics submitted by JMann

The Colour of Women song meanings
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