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