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Yeah! Can you smell it in the air? |
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There is something brilliant approaching, onto our patch encroaching |
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We'll hand it over, with a YEAH! |
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We'll watch the fabric fold, while our beauty you behoooooooooooooooold! |
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Yeah! Can you smell it in the air? |
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In three minutes it will billow about me |
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Cut around to fit so neatly |
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Watch how to succeed with the weave |
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Behold the cloth that we folded |
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With the tape about our shoulders |
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Every rule has been taken in and yeah |
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Cut and stitched to make it fit about the hips |
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See how the loop is fixed, under cross-stitch |
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We wanna look as good as you |
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As we race up to the loom |
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Pop pop! On the cuffs |
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Huh huh! On the hem |
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Yeah! Can you feel it in the air? |
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Tonight we begin revolving |
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at a speed sending skirts ascending |
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You cannot contend with the RPM |
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Regard the seamstress' insight |
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As we twirl into the spotlight |
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I am in a state to ovulate and yeah |
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Find myself contorted oddly |
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So I can learn to love my body |
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Position of the shoulder blades deny access to the vertebrae |
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Dispel concerns about the fit |
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With five pairs of hands to assist the zip |
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Pop pop! On the cuffs |
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Huh huh! On the hem |
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The wheel begins a motion that spins trails on the thread |
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And we can make a path along until it takes us to the AH AH AH AH |
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Edge of an incision that the scissors will have run |
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And the voice becomes the needle and the thimble and the thumb! |
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We can choose the pattern, can identify the page and |
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We can choose the pattern that the music will arrange |
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And while the spinning of the wheel begins to generate a wind |
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The voice becomes the stitches and the needle and the pins |
