Springtime in DC 4 Star View

Fighting the crowds, suits like shrouds
Wandering down 14th
I got my name on a cubical
While you’re writing ours on the beach
The Potomac flows to the Atlantic
So my thoughts float to your reach
Sometimes, I swear, this salty air
Is all I need to breathe

I wish I had my feet in high tide
And that I was there with you
The snow don’t feel like sand on my toes
And there’s far too much to do
Please send me a postcard
Dabbed with your perfume
Tonight at 9:00, we’ll look at the sky
And share the same bright moon

It’s your smile and relaxed style
That makes the Capital lowercase
It’s your small-town home, and how you’re grown
That puts that color in your face
It’s easy to wish, and hard to resist
Like the lighthouse from the Cape
With folks all around, faces to the ground
This lonesome finds its place