Span

Lyrics

Anchor the thumb by the edge of the hem
Send the fifth finger out across the dark
Pull the thumb forward and anchor again
Leave a small ghost of chalk to make the mark
I don't need a yardstick to know how you've grown
My hand finds the distance before it touches down
The blue vein rises on the back of the bone
While the fire burns low in this quiet town

This is the kingdom I can hold
Without ever moving my feet
Just the stretch of a palm against the cold
Just the rhythm of a quiet heartbeat
They stamp the steel and they call it true
But they don't have to build a winter coat for you
I measure the world by what I can reach
And what I can't, I leave to the street

Somebody's grandfather gave us this rule
Maybe he made his living out of wood
Spreading his hand on a three-legged stool
Deciding exactly how much was good
Now I walk my hand across the velvet grain
My brass thimble leaving a temporary dent
Feeling the pull of the tendon complain
Against every inch that you went

This is the kingdom I can hold
Without ever moving my feet
Just the stretch of a palm against the cold
Just the rhythm of a quiet heartbeat
They stamp the steel and they call it true
But they don't have to build a winter coat for you
I measure the world by what I can reach
And what I can't, I leave to the street

The webbing pulls tight, pale as milk
Trying to cover the width of your back
I am running out of silk
I am running out of slack
If I stretch any farther my fingers will break
If I stretch any farther—

So I stop at the edge of the cloth
Thumb and pinky, a moth on the glass
I cover as much as I can
And let the rest pass