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Gently remove all wash n care tags
And place in the recovery position
Unravel his shirt from the seasoned knots and curves
And his skin will not protest to want it back
Well, he'll sleep till he has no edges
And coming into the room
You'll feel a solemnity of sparrows
Perched on every trinket and sill
His wristwatch as loud as the feet of the gathering crowd
Craning their necks for a glimpse of the transition
Stood like a tide in a perfect arc denied
The chance to claim and smooth each undulation
Well, he'll sleep till he has no edges
And coming into the room
You'll feel a solemnity of sparrows
Poised upon the hangers and shirts
All those fine strands
Of cotton like water in my hands
I want to re-ravel all of them
But my fingers can't find the ends
Well, he'll sleep till he has no edges
And coming into the room
You'll feel a solemnity of sparrows
Perched on every trinket and sill
