Ode to My Clothes

Somewhere in the hills of Ireland there’s a Prada bag
And somewhere down the lane there’s a dog in Gucci lace
And sometimes I think that I will lose sleep at night
'Cause it’s hard, yes, it’s hard to say goodbye to my clothes
My clothes, nobody knows things like my clothes
My telephone life in the back of my jeans
Nobody knows how I feel today, how I feel today
So now, now that they’re gone in the hills of Ireland
So long, so long
This was an ode to my clothes
«Bye-bye, clothes»