The Postal Service - "Such Great Heights"

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.
And 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.
And that frankly will not fly.
You will hear the shrillest highs,
And lowest lows with the windows down,
When this is guiding you home.

I was listening to this as I was walking home from the bus stop today. The rain just made this song so much better.