Last Bus to Baltimore

I missed the last bus to Baltimore
And all my friends in the city are out of town
'Cause the trees are lit up with strings of lights
And the darkest night is woke by choral sounds

I'm stuck here in this postcard, I wanna be mailed to you
It's cold in this December, but in your arms it feels like June
From Brooklyn to Manhattan, racing fast between the lines
By flying birds and trumpets, through yellow lights and blurry signs

But I missed the last bus to Baltimore
And this guitar is too heavy to hall around
And the trees are lit up with strings of lights
And the darkest night is woke by choral sounds

That winter wind chills me to the bone
And I am a kite trying to stay on the ground
I think she blows from the Hudson in this neon-lit sky
And that taxi horn is a well welcomed sound

And I made the last bus to Baltimore
'Cause an angel shared her seat with me
'Cause the trees are lit up with strings of lights
And the darkest night was brighter than it seemed
I'm coming home

I almost missed the last bus to Baltimore