Seam Allowance

[Verse 1]
The last Formica booth at Winstead's is holding them close.
He traces the rim of her coffee, a slow, sweet overdose.
She sees the whole pattern laid out on the vinyl, clean and new,
Before the scissors or sorrow cut the simple fabric in two.

[Pre-Chorus]
And the sugar he's shaking looks just like the January snow
That'll fall on their porch thirty years from the one they don't know.

[Chorus]
Oh, the heart leaves a little seam allowance,
A half-inch of grace for the fray.
They're spending it now, no one ever knows how
To save some for a rainier day.

[Verse 2]
"Salt or pepper?" he asks her low, like it's a secret for them.
The neon sign buzzes a tune, a humming, off-color hymn.
She thinks of a threadbare couch, and a fever at 4 AM,
The quiet that darns up a fight at the frayed-out, bitter hem.

[Pre-Chorus]
And the ketchup she’s tapping looks just like the rust on a swing
That'll wait in the yard for a child whose name they don't know how to sing.

[Chorus]
Oh, the heart leaves a little seam allowance,
A half-inch of grace for the fray.
They're spending it now, no one ever knows how
To save some for a rainier day.

[Bridge]
And she sees all the patches to come, mismatched and worn,
The heavy old quilt of a promise that's been ripped and reborn.

[Chorus]
Yeah, the heart leaves a little seam allowance...
Just enough grace for the fray.
You spend it all now... never figuring out how...
To save some... for a rainier day.

[Outro]
He pays at the counter. The bell on the door is a sigh.