The Distance.

THE DISTANCE [Intro] From the window, it looked close. [Verse 1] White house sitting on the hill. Grass bending in the wind. Everybody looking out knows where the field should end. Fence line. Rooftop. Patch of sky. Nothing strange to see. You measure from the window. I measure from my knees. [Pre-Chorus] You call it a field. I call it the distance. [Chorus] You see a field. I see every inch. Every root that catches. Every stone that shifts. You see a house at the top of the hill. I see the distance. And I cross it still. [Verse 2] He gave me younger shoulders, but kept my weathered hands. A body caught between two versions of who I am. Maybe that's the truest thing he ever painted there— the woman that the world could see, and the woman still in here. [Pre-Chorus] You call it a field. I know what it asks. [Chorus] You see a field. I see every inch. Every root that catches. Every stone that shifts. You see a house at the top of the hill. I see the distance. And I cross it still. [Verse 3] People stand before me now and wonder what I want. Why I keep looking toward the house. Why I don't turn around. Maybe they expect a rescue coming down the hill. But nobody is coming. And I am moving still. [Bridge] Don't make me brave. Don't make me tragic. Don't make the field mean something more. It was grass. It was dirt. It was home. And I just wanted to reach the door. [Break] From the window, it looked close. Everything does when someone else has to cross it. [Final Chorus] You see a field. I see where I've been. Every flattened blade behind me. Every mark my hands have left. You see a house at the top of the hill. I see my door. There are a thousand ways to move through this world. This one is mine. [Outro] White house. Brown grass. One woman in between. From where you're standing, almost nothing separates us. Come down here. Look again.