Colour of the Night - Brett Anderson

My love she hides a cruel disease

It’s the bullet in her mind, it’s the plan

Between her knees

It’s the colour of the night, it’s the

Number of the beast

My love she dreams of Tel Aviv

She’s got nails in her hands and nails

In her feet

She’s not from the Holy Land but she

Think she used to be

Tell me when was hell so beautiful?

Tell me with your words that disagree

Tell me with your reason carved like granite

Tell me so that I can be free

My love she’s like a cruel disease

She’s the bullet in my mind

She’s got a plan between her knees

She’s the colour of the night

She stirs the beast in me