Shirin - Jens Lekman

Shirin Shirin Shirin Shirin

Shirin Shirin Shirin Shirin

When Shirin cuts my hair

it’s like a love affair

Let those locks fall to the ground

or let them stay there

I show her my passport

what I look like

But she just smiles and lets me know

it’s gonna be all right

Shirin Shirin Shirin Shirin

Shirin Shirin Shirin Shirin

When Shirin cuts my hair

her mama’s sitting in the rocking chair

She tells me stories from the war

in Iraq cause they were there

Shirin pulls my head to the side

but in the mirror I can see

a tear in her eye

Shirin Shirin Shirin Shirin

Shirin Shirin Shirin Shirin

Your hands are soft

your hands are soft just like silk

You’re a drop of blood

You’re a drop of blood in my glass of milk

Your hands are soft

your hands are soft just like silk

You’re a drop of blood

You’re a drop of blood in my glass of milk

When Shirin does her magic

to my frizzy straws

Immigration and tax represantatives

stumbled upon the lot

But what if it reaches the government

that you have a beauty salon

in your own apartment

I won’t tell anyone!

Shirin Shirin Shirin Shirin

I won’t tell anyone!

Shirin Shirin Shirin Shirin

I won’t tell anyone!