Text:
Verse 1
Stitched in Dhaka, sweat on the seam,
Five euros shining in a discount dream.
Worn-out fashion, tossed away fast,
Dropped in a bin, thinking good will last.

Pre-Chorus
But the ocean knows, and the rivers cry,
Clothes don’t vanish, they just fly.
From Europe’s hands to an African shore,
Secondhand stories, but it’s trash once more.

Chorus
Thread the divide, we’re tangled in lies,
A fabric of guilt where the landfill hides.
Streets of Accra, burning night skies,
We wear it once, the planet dies.

(solo)

Verse 2
Market stalls drowning in polyester rain,
Forty percent is nothing but pain.
Traders shout, but their hands are tied,
Selling waste dressed up as pride.

Bridge
Oh, you thought you gave, but you just threw away,
A gift wrapped in poison, shipped far away.
From the sweatshops to the landfill fire,
Fast fashion’s truth is a funeral choir.

(solo)

Chorus
Thread the divide, we’re tangled in lies,
A fabric of guilt where the landfill hides.
Streets of Accra, burning night skies,
We wear it once, the planet dies.

Outro
Bangladesh stitches, Ghana burns,
The cycle spins, but will it turn?
Less is the answer, less we must choose,
Or every stitch is a life we lose.

Thread the Divide

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Thread the Divide

Thomas Brutscher