POSTCARDS OF PLACES AND THINGS
Life here at the campsite
Sixty thousand miles from home
I can't believe the caves
I can't believe the graves
Meanwhile in a city so very far away
He takes a glimpse through venetian blinds
And views this picture in his mind
And just when I feel neglected
He cooks it up - sends it off - delivers it soon
And then I show the folks the wonder
And the gift he has for drawing up those
Postcards of places and things he's never visited before
Postcards of places I know he's always gonna be a star
With those Postcards of places
Nice to know he's watching when I'm feeling small
Met him through a window on some lonely barren plane
Where words are never spoke and dreams are never broke
I - I was a blank space lost and feeling cold
He pulled me in through his color wheel
I lost my sense of what was real
And just when I felt sedated he grabbed a pen,
He pinned me down caressing my face
Until it brought me back the wonders of a child in a floating frame, he drew
Postcards of places and things he's never visited before
Postcards of places I know he's always gonna be the star
With those Postcards of places
Nice to know he's watching when I'm feeling small
Nice to know he's watching, keeping me at home