Paper Napkins
Well I'm in Chicago, and the Birds are in Cleveland
And I haven't seen a full game on TV all season
It's OK, because I get updates on my phone
The same ones I get from my friends so I feel less alone

Well it's pack your bags
Put your luggage in the car
And I'll call you when I get there
Wherever we are

It's highways in August, and it's airports at Christmas
It's calling up friends who say, "sorry man, just missed us"
It's these places I go and the things I bring home
It's chasing these places and things that I'll never quite become

And it's empty your pockets
Have your boarding pass in hand
And it's take off your belt and shoes
And it's rearrange your plans

It's words left unsaid, bills left unpaid
Friends left for dead and beds left unmade
It's talks about money and discussing religion
It's disappointing my friends and my seasonal depression
It's the war on TV and the news as it happens
It's writing these songs on airport paper napkins
It's coming back home to unopened letters
It's surviving the winter if we stick it out together

Because there's grass to be grown
And there's baseball weather
It's less than 100 days until pitchers and catchers
So let's raise one more glass to the darkness and sing
One more tiny prayer that we make it until spring

And it's tray tables up
Put your seat backs upright
And it's buckle up your seatbelts
And it's "have a nice flight"