I’m the piano player

down at Eddie’s bar

and Rachel she’s the waitress

who wants to be a star

She swears she’s

gone a make it

Make it big someday

and she’ll send me picture

postcards from L.A.

When it’s time for closing

I play while Rachel cleans

She listens to my music

I listen to her dreams

She swears she’s

gone a make it

She’s going all the way

and I say send me picture

postcards from L.A.

Send me postcards from L.A.

signed with love forevermore

Picture postcards from L.A. to

hang on my refrigerator door

Rachel if you find me one

I’d love a picture of

the California sun

When Rachel

shares my pillow she always

asks me things like do

I really think she’s pretty

Do I like the way she sings

I don’t know how to answer

so I always smile and say

I say send me picture

postcards from L.A.

Send me postcards from L.A.

signed with love forevermore

Picture postcards from L.A. to

hang on my refrigerator door

Rachel if you find me one

I’d love a picture of

the California sun

Sometimes Rachel stands up in

the middle of the bar and does

a scene from the late show

We all clap our hands

as she puts her apron on

and says next week

I’m gone a go..........

She’ll even buy a ticket

and pack her things to leave

Though we all know the story

we pretend that we believe

But something

always comes up

Something always

makes her stay

And still no picture

postcards from L.A.

Send me postcards from L.A.

signed with love forevermore

Picture postcards from L.A. to

hang on my refrigerator door

Rachel if you find me one

I’d love a picture of

the California sun

I’m the piano player

down at Eddie’s bar

and Rachel she’s the waitress

who wants to be a star