Heat
I need someone to meet
I run across sweet-looking you
Do you know what you do?
Oh, you tear the top right off my head
Blow my mind
Yeah, I'm going blind
Freaking out in the afternoon
Looking at a daytime moon
Talk to me, I talk to you
Do you know what you do?
Yeah, you tear the top right off my head
Blow my mind
I'm going blind
Sitting by the firelight
Coffee cups for two
Touch my lips with your fingertips
Do you know what you do?
Yeah, you tear the top right off my head
You blow my mind
Postmarked Birmingham
I recognized the writing on the plain white envelope.
I wondered where she'd wind up before she called or wrote.
The answer's in a circle, with the word 'love' on a stamp
postmarked Birmingham.
I'd have bet on California, 'cause her sister's in Bel Aire.
Or I could see Seattle, with her mom and dad up there.
She never mentioned Alabama, so I don't understand
postmarked Birmingham.
A two page letter written on Ramada stationary,
dated April twenty-two.
She asks me not to hate her, says she's sorry
but leavings what she felt she had to do.
So the day she left she made it two hundred miles south.
Did she settle there? Did she mail this note on her way out of town?
What chance is there to find her, when the only clue I have
is postmarked Birmingham?
A two page letter written on Ramada stationary,
dated April twenty-two.
She asks me not to hate her, says she's sorry
but leavings what she felt she had to do.
A two page letter written on Ramada stationary,
dated April twenty-two.
She asks me not to hate her, says she's sorry
but leavings what she felt she had to do.
Now every day down by the mailbox, standing on the curb I check
the upper right-hand corner of every piece of mail I get
hopin' there's that certain circle with the word 'love' on a stamp
postmarked Birmingham.
Postmarked Birmingham.