On the train a stranger's breath creeps into my chest
And it's always startling when you call me by my name
Even though I consider you to be a dear friend
Violet Clem, Violet Clementine
Violet Clem, Violet Clementine, Vi

The parentheses are your temples that I read in between the lines of
Then climbed up the steps and left your sky-blues
Oh, Vi I'm not dead set on what I'm meant to do
Love of mine I'm trying to be true to you

Carroll Street I come, I leave your station time and time over
But you've given me many a thing to soldier on towards
These words in a row build me a home
Beneath which I bury my bones

Picturing you painting is what puts me at ease
You have a way of getting yourself mixed into the songs that I sing
If I'm peanut butter well then you're still aubergine
And you'd fit real nice right beside me in this painting