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Indigo Girls
Indigo Girls


Background information
Origin Atlanta, Georgia, United States
Genre(s) Folk-Rock
Years active 1985—present
Label(s) Epic Records
Hollywood Records
Vanguard Records
Associated acts Michael Stipe
Joan Baez
Mary Chapin Carpenter
Ferron
Website Website
Members
Amy Ray
Emily Saliers



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Indigo Girls Lyrics

"Collecting You" lyrics


Words and music by Emily Saliers

I could paint you in the dark
Cause I've studied you with hunger as a work of art
And these are very secret days
I collect my information
Then I stow it all away
Call me
When you breeze through to your appointments
The work you do
Call me
I'm collecting you

The pleading (unknown) sting
My hairtrigger love and faulty spring
The (unknown) name
I don't like that smile applied to me
So blindly just the same
Call me
When you breeze through
To your appointments
The work you do
Call me
I'm collecting you

Turning up my collar (turning up my collar)
To an unseasonal chill
You ask for a favor
You know I will
And the rain comes as surprise
We fly across the railroad ties
I feel the danger
The foolish thrill
Oh yes I will

What it will or won't be then
(unknown) sure the predevelopment of the of the inkful in the pen
Mind the minds eye's trickery
Cause you might picture killer beautiful
Much more than it might be
Call me
Tell me
What you're up to
What you do
Call me
I'm collecting you

I would be foolish
To think that I could turn it off
And stay alive the way I live
When you switch on
Hand on the dimmer (my hands you)
Give me just a glimmer (in the glimmer)
Give me just a shadow (just a shadow)
Of hope around the edges
Agony and rapture
Forever uncaptured

Take these secrets to your grave
Drug across your landscape
And buried in your cave (your piling up)
Your piling up and out of sight (out of sight)
Every try to add it up feels like counting shades of light
Call me yeah
Tell me
What you're up to
What you do
Call me
I'm collecting you

Hang it in my window
Let it complicate my view
The separation
The glass of you
But I can't paint this picture
Any way that I see fit
The art of pain
The subject sits unmoved

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