We fold the towels into squares
And rest them on the kitchen chairs
The water runs and runs and pours
Without a word, we close the doors
We smooth the sheet and pull it tight
A lamp beside the bed is bright
We turn our backs, each holds a phone
And every screen keeps its own tone
The blanket has a worn-thin spot
The sideboard holds a little pot
We're not the storm we used to be
We're just the weather, we agree
The blanket has a worn-thin spot
The sideboard holds a little pot
We've traded sparks for a gentle norm
The ordinary keeps us warm
We smooth the sheet and pull it tight
A lamp beside the bed is bright
We turn our backs, each holds a phone
And every screen keeps its own tone
The blanket has a worn-thin spot
The sideboard holds a little pot
We're not the storm we used to be
We're just the weather, we agree
The blanket has a worn-thin spot
The sideboard holds a little pot
We've traded sparks for a gentle norm
The ordinary keeps us warm
