When that title slipped into my mind it was all go and the early verse work felt bluesy with certainly blue notes to sing. The chorus wrote itself around the title with jazz chords. Changing key to the variation was natural enough but quite a long journey back to the verse again.Art in her BonesOut on the left - she’s made it her homeSome think she’s weird – and likely getting’ stoned aloneBut I’m on the hook - just reel me inIt’s the art in her bones - that makes her what she seems to beThe art in her bones - makes a thrill inside of me Sometimes at night- she wakes from a dreamShe runs to her paint – got to liberate that sceneThen after an hour - she’s layin’ back downIt’s the art in her bones . . .She don’t deal with accounts and rates and supermarketsShe’s driftin’ through hazy lanes and blocks of colourAnd something someone said three nights agoShe put that friend in embargoGotta work it through on canvas - then they’ll thaw in a trystThey’ll work it out – those ladies of rhymeThey just need the moon – to tell them when the time is rightAnd me I can wait – for that special nightWhen she gives she’s layin over us Starlight curves across her body real – we’re playin’ sealsLazy floppy as the sunlight growsWe talk of us as forever – and after that still togetherNeath the door’s a gentle zephyrHey let us rise – it’s quarter to oneIn the café - love our whacky talkie funThe way she sees things – my soul it just sings