Any time I'm feeling, well, helpless and alone I know that there's something I can turn to Over which I have control I can make you look amazing All I have to do is go to my room full of air and sew For a stoop that's reduced by the sharpest of suits Or a colouring balanced by pastels and talent A figure redeemed by the placement of seams And the adding of padding in some vital areas But I won't judge and I would not begrudge The most garish of gowns if your features, it drowns But your soul it completes as you stroll down the streets With a man with a tan and a flower in his buttonhole Oh, yes, anything goes As I sit in my room and sew For when I'm creating I'm not cogitating Or rather, my mind is elsewhere ruminating On how to sew one hundred roses upon a gown In such a way that it doesn't come falling down A bustle that rustles and sways so becomingly Somehow allays all the fear overcoming me Pure concentration can cure this fixation With degradation, if only temporarily Oh, it's more than just clothes As I sit in my room and sew So I sit in my room and sew