Skyline

The weather here is perfect
I'll lay it out frame by frame
I'll write a plea for you to visit
On a 4×6 cardstock with your name

I know you can't see it
But the grass out here is greener
I'll remember this picture

Oh how I wish you were here
The air is cool at the wrong time of year
Did you see, on the bottom, the red and white lines?
The postman's calling you to my skyline

My return address, it would really be complete
If you were right here with me
So I'll peel the stamp and write persuasively:
I don't really live here
But I swear it feels like home