Stitched Joy

A silver eye,

a cotton thread

Gathering the patches on the bed

We stitch the pieces,

green and gold

A tapestry of stories to be told

(ooh, mmm)

Pulling tight the threads of time

Your quiet hand in mine

Simple mending, simple grace In this warm and crowded space

(we hold on,

we hold on)

A heavy coat

to block the cold

A mended seam that's growing old

Each loop a memory

we keep

While the children fall asleep (ahhh)

Pulling tight the threads of time

Your quiet hand in mine

Simple mending, simple grace In this warm and crowded space

(we hold on)

Stitch by

stitch

Row by

row