Darning needles, they keep stabbing
oh, darn these darning needles
come find me in a haystack
and darn me back, oh, darn these tacks
out of my heart and if I fall apart
darn me into a sweater to keep your cold heart warm.
Darning needles, where's my thimble?
I feel so old out darning now
why do I sound like a pirate
why do I sing like a hick?
where is the spirit of joyfulness?
Throw my anchor into my rocking chair
break my old rickety arms
the willow branches they don't care
when I ask for help they just say darn!
Darning needles, I've got so many
willow branches make up plenty
of stories to nit from these dragging mits
willows, your needles just drag me down
you were cursed when you first came out
when God looked down on the ground
So I'll darn these needles everyday
I'll work until all the weeds
work their their way from my life
and this becomes my paradise.
But darning needles, they keep stabbing
oh, darn these darning needles.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Edgar Allan Poe
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Henry David Thoreau
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