Lyrics Twenty Seven - WHY?

On this new anniversary of you
I give you not me pulling the first soft feathers
From a newborn robin fledgling
Saying "she loves me not, she loves me"
Like some killers crazy form of petals from a daisy
For it to try and fail in flight and fall flailing

But 27 brittle bird bones to build a little fence from
And one shiny piece of amythyst to top each tiny post with
And I leave you to decide what fits inside it
Be it spiders, ice, or pennies or all 20 of your fistborn's baby teeth

There is real peace in the regular order
Of my most intimate geometry
Real peace in the regular order
Of my most intimate geometry

I am no longer your unsure lover
And pull nothing from a flower

There is real peace in the regular order
Of my most intimate geometry