Texty: Cousteau. Peculiarly You.

The way you arch your back and comb your hair
The way you only come when no-one else is there
The way you look like you might know a secret
There's not a lot I can do, it's peculiarly you

Like the patron saint of some great cause
Clothes heaped in battles around the bedroom floor
And I ain't come to find and I ain't tryin' to save you
There's not a lot I can do, it's peculiarly you

How well I know
How well I know
Oh, leaving well enough alone
Leaving well enough alone

The way you're sacrificing, light for heat
Worlds collide when others rarely meet
The way you look like you might tell a secret
There's not a lot I can do, it's peculiarly you