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 gonna 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 gonna 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
Sshe 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 gonna 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