Hide in a stork's mouth Sleep 'til it's dark out All dressed up holding your receipts for the numbers that you picked You in a box full of your mistakes and a leaden crucifix If hearts were all made like they were balls of yarn Well they've all got the strings that get tugged on real hard Some are different lengths Some would be stronger than others And some would be the colors of your mothers and fathers Do old structures stand The same as any older man A place where something used to live But in the end just turns cold Am I a torn up, tattered, worn out piece of fabric Not suitable to stitch up a rip 'Cause I'd like to be tightly braided Gold and silver bracelets The type you'd like to wear round your wrist As we lay We start to pray And in the places you go You'll find these people you know All sewing patterns into clothing that you've called your own And in these smaller designs There's something larger you might find That people's hands have worked together to make up the parts of you