"THE LABEL ON YOUR SLEEVE"
Well I really want to touch you.
God, I really want to hold you in my arms.
Every inch you spend apart from me,
I curse the distance and I curse the space between.
I feel the warmth inside your cashmere.
I only wish I was the label on your sleeve.
Maybe then I could be next to you,
but instead I'll have to dream of ways to be
Close to you.
Close to you.
I cut off the beard I grew
So I could be close to you.
Well, I think I'm going crazy;
I'm addicted to the smell of your perfume.
And the lines are getting hazy;
when I wrote this song I know I crossed a few
Over you.