Ho's a Housewife

Stitch sew cut pull Stitch sew cut and pull Stitch sew cut pull Stitch sew cut and pull Stitch sew cut pull Stitch sew cut and pull Stitch sew cut pull Stitch sew cut and pull Hah hah Hah hah Hah hah Hah hah 80 degrees, hemmed by reveries Iron out saudade and wrinkles unfold Off-grain fabric tells a different tale Tailored frequencies need to be repaired Seven a.m is when the station plays its sounds Listening to the speaker while the patterns pin into place Scissors separate the yellow from the white Good morning, small-town listeners Thimbles coat my fingers Feed dogs are jamming up The thread comes in tangles I see such pretty things FM comes in different colors, I believe In the sewing machine, I've lost myself Memories inside my heart are there to grieve Color-coded by the love he gave to me Ah, his voice, it speaks to me through the radio Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board Losing bobbins under tables, is it so? Every day, it feels like seams are more than torn Buttoned patchwork, thread that's tied in knots Hand-sew everything with kind intention Liquid sound waves pour from my eyes My heart cries out to you in desperation Seven a.m is when the station plays its sounds Listening to the speaker while the patterns sew into place Unmistakably, he'll return alive His colors ought to show again Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white and blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white and blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white and blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white and blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white and blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white and blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white and blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white and Blue and green and yellow and red; these aren't the colors i should see FM comes in different colors, I believe In the sewing machine, I've lost myself Memories inside my heart are there to grieve Color-coded by the love he gave to me Ah, his voice, it speaks to me through the radio Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board Losing bobbins under tables, is it so? Every day, it feels like seams are more than torn