Calico Hymn

[Verse 1]
This calico shirt from the '98 county fair
Still holds the shape of the shoulders you used to wear.
It's ten past nine on a Tuesday night in June,
The needle's cold beneath a Shenandoah moon.
I pull the thread, a strand of cotton white,
Against the faded pattern in the kitchen light.

[Chorus]
And this needle's a hymn, this thread is a prayer
Mending the impossible tear,
Just patching the air.

[Verse 2]
Found a hole beneath the pocket, a careless rip,
From a rusty nail or a sudden boyish slip.
Mama’s darning box smells of cedar and time,
She’d say, “A stitch in time, child, is worth more than a dime.”
But a dime won't buy the feeling of the weave,
Or the final, ragged breath before you had to leave.

[Chorus]
And this needle's a hymn, this thread is a prayer
Mending the impossible tear,
Just patching the air.

[Bridge]
The thread pulls tight, then snaps against my thumb— (SHIT!)
Just for a second, I let the silence come.
There's a broken slat on your empty kitchen chair,
But this stitch won't hold, and Lord, I just don't care.

[Outro]
This needle's a hymn...
...patching the air.