She's weaving him a pillow full of dreams
Soft winter wool and summer fleece
With the colors of the berries that grow among the hills
Strands of cloudy gray and deep blue indigo

And she sits beside the open door in the evening sun
Combs the carded wool in her lap, her long hair all undone
Talking to the one she loves as she weaves the hand-spun yarn
Like a web around her there to keep her safe from harm

She dances in his heart like a feather
So fine the threads that binds the souls together
She's weaving him a pillow for his head
Sometimes the strongest love hangs by such a slender thread

He always loved to sing those country songs
About his mountain home and love gone wrong
That one about an old friend riding with the highway signs
But his favorites were the ones that play between the lines

He would sit on her porch in the evening light
With a guitar in his hands singing through the night
Weaving pictures in her mind with every single word
But the songs he wrote for her were the only ones she heard

She had his drifter's heart on a tether
So fine the threads that bound these souls together
She loved to her him sing. that's what she said
Sometimes the strongest love hangs by such a slender thread

See him lying there with broken bones
A child's smile on a man full grown
If he'd gone just another inch, by now he would be dead
At times life can hang by such a slender thread

He can only thank his stars for another day
And then he has to choose to live another way
But he can't ask her “How?” this time, she's already said: 
“That fine line that you walk is just a slender thread.”

She knows his heart can be as tough as leather
So strong the threads that bind these souls together
But still he counts the scars inside his head
Sometimes the strongest love hangs by such a slender thread

She's weaving him a pillow for his head