A Quarter to Four

[Verse 1]
Hey... it's me. The sewing machine's humming on your Carhartt sleeve.
It's three forty-seven, and the Gulf is asleep.
This canvas is rough under my thumb, smells like pine and diesel fuel.
Just patching the tear you got from that nail on a spool.

[Pre-Chorus]
And the moon through the kitchen window is painting the dust on the floor
In these long, silver threads I've never noticed before.
And the ice maker drops with a clatter, a shock to the quiet and dark,
And I'm thinking about the shape of this house, this whole wandering ark...

[Chorus]
And oh, it's a strange kind of music, a quarter to four.
Just the needle and thread, and nothing more.

[Verse 2]
I think I can hear what my mama meant, talking 'bout Kintsugi gold.
The beauty in what's broken, the stories they hold.
She always said, "Silence is a kind of prayer, a room for the soul to mend."
But this hum from the motor... feels more like a friend.

[Pre-Chorus]
And the streetlight outside is making the magnolia leaves glow
Like a thousand green lanterns all set in a row.
And the faucet is dripping a rhythm, a beat I can't quite un-hear,
And suddenly this kitchen, this whole tiny sphere...

[Chorus]
Oh, it's a strange kind of music, a quarter to four.
Just the needle and thread, and nothing more.

[Bridge]
Remember that night by the Cochrane, the salt in the air thick as glue?
You said some things aren't built, they just slowly come true.

[Outro]
Anyway... I'm rambling. Just wanted you to hear the machine.
Call me when you wake up.