Got your postcard from IstanbulnThe crooked lines run on and on and onnGot your picture in my carnIt's like a map that only gets me lostnnYou know it never hurt to make sensenFor us to feel thisnYou and I were never saints or angelsnI still have faith in younnTake a drive in Oregon rainnIt's 1 a.m. and you are in my bloodnAcross an ocean made of distancenThe morning comes and you'll be waking upnnYou know it never hurt to make sensenFor us to feel thisnYou and I were never saints or angelsnI still have faith in younnI lay the phone downnAnd play this song for younFive thousand miles awaynYou're listeningnnYou know it never hurt to make sensenFor us to feel thisnYou and I were never saints or angelsnI still have faith in you