Such Great Heights

145-Minutes of Commute: Such Great Heights - The Postal Service
I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
In our eyes are mirror images and when
We kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God himself
Did make us into corresponding shapes like
Puzzle pieces from the clay
True, it may seem like a stretch, but
Its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
Head when you're away when I am missing you to death
When you are out there on the road for
Several weeks of shows and when you scan
The radio, I hope this song will guide you home
They will see us waving from such great
Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away,'come down now,' but we'll stay...
I tried my best to leave this all on your
Machine but the persistent beat it sounded
Thin upon listening
That frankly will not fly. you will hear
The shrillest highs and lowest lows with
The windows down when this is guiding you home

This sun is beating down on my car as I zip through a forest along a small river. This wind is grabbing at my hair from all four car windows. Cumulous clouds flock the sky ahead of me, but the only shade I see is cast by the newly-green trees lining this country road. This song starts batting sounds between my left and right car speakers, and for those 32 seconds, just before the bass takes over, fat, individual rain drops dot my windshield. I swear they make their debut in time to the ping-ponging notes. I look up; they must have fallen from the sun.

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Half an hour later the right side of my windshield-framed view is sunny and cloudless; directly in front of me is chaos; on my left is a tumultuous grey vista, splashed with the occassional bolt of lightening.

Best weather ever.