Buried Stitch

[Chorus]
Saw your man on Fulton, another hand in his.
And my mouth is sewn shut by what a good friend is.
I’m carrying this picture, a single broken thread.
My mouth is sewn shut with all the words I never said.

[Verse 1]
The gin felt hot going down at The Hangar Bar, last night.
He didn't see me in the corner, in the low red light.
He was tracing little circles on the back of her wrist,
a private language I chose not to exist.

[Chorus]
Saw your man on Fulton, another hand in his.
And my mouth is sewn shut by what a good friend is.
I’m carrying this picture, a single broken thread.
My mouth is sewn shut with all the words I never said.

[Verse 2]
You were picking at the cuff on your denim jacket sleeve.
Said, "Whit, you're quiet," and I couldn't bear to breathe.
Felt the words climb up my throat, a sudden, burning plea,
'I'd unravel my whole life to keep you safe with me.'
Then I coughed and looked away, like it was just a stupid line.

[Bridge]
My father taught me how to mend a crooked seam,
To hide the handiwork, make it a perfect dream.
And maybe this is kindness, a weaver's brutal grace.
To let this ugly pattern stay buried in its place.

[Chorus]
Saw your man on Fulton, another hand in his.
And my mouth is sewn shut by what a good friend is.
I’m carrying this picture, a single broken thread.
My mouth is sewn shut with all the words I never said.

[Outro]
Yeah, my mouth is sewn shut.
Heavy on my tongue.