Imagine for a second you're watching Neighbours with your feet up when there's a series of loud knocks on the back door. You jump up to investigate. You find a wide-eyed neighbour begging for protection from an unknown or unseen threat. Do you ask them to kindly go to the front door in order to be processed correctly? Slam the door in their face? Leave them at the back door? Lock them up in the shed while you ascertain the veracity of their claims? Barricade the back door to prevent a repeat? Put barbed-wire on the electric fence? Or let them in the fucking house? Are they the threat? Are you?
I NEVER GOT THAT SAYING. HOW CAN TIME BE STITCHED? AND NOW THAT I DO. WHEN IS IT TOO LATE? WHAT IF YOU LIKE STITCHING? LET IT GO VERY FRAYED. WHAT IF UNSTITCHING'S YOUR THING? MOVE TO SOMEWHERE MUCH WARMER. IF I WAS SOMEBODY'S CLOTHING. I'D KNOW HOW IT FEELS. TO ALWAYS GET STITCHED UP. UNLESS THEY ABANDON THEIR THINGS. WHENEVER THEY FEEL LIKE IT. OR THINK I WON'T GET EATEN BY MOTHS. OR WON'T WIND UP ON A WINDSCREEN. OR PULLED APART AT THE ARMS. PULLED APART AT THE LEGS. ENDINGS SINGING IN THE WIND. FLIPPING OUT IN THE WIND. OR TAKEN TO WITH A PAIR OF SCISSORS. MADE INTO SOMETHING MORE FASHIONABLE. DYED. MADE INTO RIBBONS. TIED INTO KNOTS. OR MADE TO SHINE SOMEBODY'S TROPHY COLLECTION OR SHOES. KEPT UNDER THE SINK FOR THAT SPECIAL OCCASION. DRAGGED OUT TO MAKE SHOES MIRRORS. I'M PASSING ON ALL THAT. I'LL BE HANGING OUT FOR SOME BIG ASS MOTH TO COME AND LAY AN EGG ON ME SOMEWHERE ALONG THE LINE.