The closer I am to your faded hand The cold inch of air that threatens my bed Where you used to stand The ghost at my arm The kiss on my neck So strange this house that I'm in It's not what I meant by those things I said The frost on the glass The wheels on the road The soft white machine That holds you between The coming and going The closer I am, the closer I get The further you drift from this place While I cling to your face in my head The closer I am to your threaded hand The cold slice of air that holds by my bed Where you used to stand The closer I am