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