The Thirteenth Link

[Verse 1]
The Christmas lights on the Silver Bridge are blinking out of time again.
It’s four cents left on this calling card, phone booth smells like frozen metal and gin.
It’s almost dark at four o'clock, the Ohio River's a sheet of glass.
Just wanted to hear the line connect, a tangled thread to make it last.

[Chorus]
And this is the final patch, I guess.
The part of the quilt that never rests.
Just called to say the furnace pilot's lit.
Just called to say I'm getting sick of it.

[Verse 2]
Saw Mrs. Gable at the Piggly Wiggly, her cart was full of Clorox wipes.
She said, "Tell your mother the Lord is watchin' over all the eyebolt types."
The screen door's warped so it won't quite slam, it just sighs shut against the frame.
I stitched that tear in your old wool coat, but the seam don't hold up just the same.

[Chorus]
And this is the final patch, I guess.
The part of the quilt that never rests.
Just called to say the furnace pilot's lit.
Just called to say I'm getting sick of it.

[Bridge]
(A lone, ghostly, warbling musical saw solo cuts through the wall of sound, hangs in the air over a sparse, deep drum groove, then fades back into the building arrangement.)

[Outro]
The Christmas lights on the Silver Bridge are blinking out a name I knew.