Pattern Language

[Verse 1]
Railton Road breathes out the day, Friday, April tenth.
She watches him trace the dye-lot number on a bolt of silk organza.
He whispers a plan, a mischief woven in the orange light,
A language just for them before the fall of night.

[Chorus]
They're speaking in a pattern language,
Unspooling thread nobody else can manage.
A secret seam across the map,
Just a breath before the trap.

[Verse 2]
The air outside smells sharp, like burnt sugar and the coming cold.
"Tomorrow," he says, "we'll make a color they have never sold."
She laughs, a sound like tiny bells against the window pane,
Ignoring the low hum carried on the wind, a promise of rain.

[Chorus]
They're speaking in a pattern language,
Unspooling thread nobody else can manage.
A secret seam across the map,
Just a breath before the trap.

[Bridge]
And the whole city is a loom, holding its breath tonight,
Carrying a story that hasn't yet come to light.
The threads are pulled so tight, so tight they have to fray.

[Outro]
A perfect plan for Saturday.
A perfect plan for Saturday.