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Stitch In Time
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There was a woman and she lived in her own Slaved on her own and skivvied on her own She had two little boys and two little girls She lived all alone with her husband He was a hunk if a man A chunk of a man and a drunk of a man A hunk of a drunken spunk of a man Such a boozy bruising bully of a husband When he came home drunk at night He thrashed her black and he thrashed her white Thrashed her to within an inch of her life And snored all night like a pig her drunken husband One night she gathered her tears all round her shame Covered up the bruising cried with the pain You'll not do that ever again I'll not live anymore with a drunken husband That night as he lay drunk in bed The strangest thought came to her head She took the needle and the thread And went straight into her sleeping husband She started to stitch with a girlish thrill With a woman's eye and a seamstress skill She bibbed and tucked with an iron will As she stitched all around her sleeping husband The top sheet and the bottom sheet too The blanket stitched to the

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