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I tore my sleeve on the rusty nail,
And watched the thread begin to fail.
I knew that no one would be here,
So I held my breath and swallowed the fear.
I practiced the stitches along the seam,
The rhythm turned into a gentle stream.
I made a few knots and pulled them true,
And the tear began to close in view.
I thread the needle through the fold,
I tie a knot that makes it hold.
And every stitch is a quiet sign,
That I can learn to mend what's mine.
I thread the needle through the fold,
I tie a knot that makes it hold.
And every stitch is a step I own,
A steady thread I've truly known.
I practiced the stitches along the seam,
The rhythm turned into a gentle stream.
I made a few knots and pulled them true,
And the tear began to close in view.
I thread the needle through the fold,
I tie a knot that makes it hold.
And every stitch is a quiet sign,
That I can learn to mend what's mine.
I thread the needle through the fold,
I tie a knot that makes it hold.
And every stitch is a step I own,
A steady thread I've truly known.
