The Blue Distance
MARY CHAPIN CARPENTER · The Things That We Are Made Of 2016 · Track 09 of 13
Written by Mary Chapin Carpenter
Across the railroad tracks, down the gravel road headlights throw a beam on the way back home lie down, lie down, listen wide awake to the trains that roll, to the sound time makes
It passes through the air like a summer storm catching on my sleeve like a roses thorn sometimes it whispers, sometimes it roars flies like the wind, waits by the door And I know you know and that's all I need When the light of day looks like night to me When you're far away and I'm all alone I can't explain, I know you know
It fills up my chest, it fills up my eyes like an old glass jar filled with fireflies sometimes I'm still, sometimes I sigh sometimes I'm lost and I don't know why But I know you know and that's all I need When the light of day looks like night to me When you're far away and I'm all alone I can't explain, I know you know
In the morning light, before the heat sets in call the dogs to run where the shade has been across the railroad tracks lay your silver down find it smooth and flat, stars for your crown
In the blue distance where our lives unfurl at the edges of the sky, the beauty of the world I know you know and that's all I need When the light of day looks like night to me When we're far away and we're all alone I can't explain, I know you know