The Crooked Mile · Album · Track 8
5 Aug 2026 · 3:26 · Jazz & Blues · 147 plays
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Lyrics
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Gather at the gate, we'll keep it short,
we've walked this country end to end,
we measured every fence we met —
write it on your wall:
two feet high. Two feet high.
Every single one.
Not the wire. Not the wood.
The fence was never the fence —
TWO FEET HIGH! (two feet high!)
That's the whole arithmetic!
The rest of it was in your neck!
Lift your head — the math is done,
and the answer's small enough to step.
They'll tell you about the wolves out here.
There are wolves. We've met a few.
They'll tell you about the cold out here.
It's cold. It's honest cold.
What they'll never tell you is the number —
so we're the ones who bring the number.
Check it yourself tonight.
Fear did all the masonry!
Lift your head — the builder's broke,
and the wall can't bill you anymore.
How high? (TWO FEET!)
And the sky? (FOREVER!)
Lift your head — the math is done:
two feet high,
and the sky goes up
forever.
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The Crooked MileJazz & BluesJazz & Blues1314:25