Dry Clean Only - Rare Candy

Is that the sweater I bought you

On July 13th?

I can tell by the color, I still have the receipt

It’s pinned on my wall

It stares me dead in the eye

It haunts me day and night, but I wonder why

I haven’t torn it to shreds

It’s a pain in my throat

But it goes so well with your black wool coat

I see it in pictures, it’s been worn so well

But it’s awful stretched out

Has it been worn by somebody else?

Has it been getting around?

I bet it doesn’t smell like jasmine, or roses

Or your laundry

I suppose it’s

Probably cigarettes

Or Jameson

Like all of your nights have been wasted in

A 1973 Chevrolet Caprice, and somebody had better call the police

'Cause to me

You might as well be missing or dead

I heard he put it in the dryer

I heard it fell apart

The threads came undone, and it’s not too hard to read

A 3-inch tag that sticks out from the back

I don’t blame you, 'cause he always lacked the brain cells

And the capacity to follow any direction, it’s an atrocity

The way he treated my sweater, it came from the soul

But everything gets worn, everything eventually gets old

How do you plan to fight the cold?

I bet it doesn’t smell like jasmine, or roses

Or your laundry

I suppose it’s

Probably cigarettes

Or Jameson

Like all of your nights have been wasted in

A 1973 Chevrolet Caprice, and somebody had better call the police

'Cause to me

You might as well be missing or dead

Oh, you might as well be missing or dead

It used to be the nicest blend of black and white, but now it’s all just gray

All the tiny little colors have worn away

I hope you wore it to pieces and that it didn’t just fade away

That day he threw it in the washing machine without a second thought

But the worst part is you weren’t distraught

You said, «Shit, that sucks, throw it in the trash»

What did he do to you?

You were never quite that rash

What made you so rash?

What made you so rash?

Bet it doesn’t smell like jasmine, or roses

Or your laundry

I suppose it’s

Probably cigarettes

Or Jameson

Like all of your nights have been wasted in

A 1973 Chevrolet Caprice, and somebody had better call the police

'Cause to

('Cause to me)

You might as well be missing or dead

I haven’t heard from you in weeks

I haven’t heard from you in weeks

I haven’t heard from you in weeks