Threads

On a Wednesday I stumbled in
To a side street café
Where a cowboy is singing
To a crowd of older aged
They tapped their Velcro
Feet on the floor
Half a beat — delayed
Sippin' their sweet lemonade
Sippin' their sweet lemonade
Then suddenly I’m a girl of three
Not much older
I learned to carry the weight of the world
On my shoulders
Wanna give it back, give it back
Happily
This weight was not meant
For you and me
This weight was not meant
For you and me
Woven threads in a tapestry
Of delightful mystery
Pieced together by wrinkled hands of time
The colors sometimes bleed
Against sun-bleached walls the quilt
She speaks a patchwork symphony
We are here, we are simply here to be
Oh-ho oh
He says innocence is the best defense
For a heart that’s been broken
She lets herself be still and soft
She is cracked open
Wants to hold his hand, hold his hand
Let herself be seen
There’s space in between
Where they’ll meet
There’s space in between
Where they’ll meet
Sitting slumped amidst the Sunday swamp
of family
They send him off with snapshots
To the Army
Wanna take him back, take him back
Courageously
This war was not meant
For boys of nineteen
This war was not meant
For you and me
Woven threads in a tapestry
Of delightful mystery
Pieced together by wrinkled hands of time
The colors sometimes bleed
Against sun-bleached walls the quilt
She speaks a patchwork symphony
We are here, we are simply here to be
Oh-ho oh
On a Wednesday I stumble in
To a side street café
Where a cowboy is singing
To a crowd of older aged
We tap our Velcro
Feet on the floor
Half a beat — delayed
Sippin' our sweet lemonade
Sippin' our sweet lemonade
We’ll be sippin'
Our sweet lemon-a-a-a-ade