I recognize the writing, on the plain white envelope.
I've wondered where she'd wind up, before she called or wrote.
The answer's in a circle, through 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 asked me not to hate her, said she's sorry.
But leavin's 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
Repeat Chorus
Every day down by the mailbox, standin' on the curb I check.
The upper right hand corner, of every piece of mail I get.
Hopin' there's that certain circle,
Through the word 'Love' on a stamp.
Postmarked Birmingham,
Postmarked Birmingham.
Jack M. Kelsey