I water my plants when I hear you on the phone They have learnt to love your presence The shapes of the trees through the buildings I would jump into the deep of their vanishing point Give a shape to words, they will mean something better Maybe they don't understand them but I do All that skin is for me after midnight not before All your soft hair,there for me to stroke Your painted hands they are there for being held And oh, your hips, an apple of sins Give a shape to words, they will mean something better Maybe they don't understand them but I do But I do