There's something about the blue jays outside the window
That makes me think of you, and how you aren't here

And it makes me wonder how you're doing out there
I hope that you aren't terribly cold, but your coat is pretty warm

The blue jays flew away, and now I miss you quite a bit more
You said you'd be back on Sunday, but that seems like an eternity away

And now there's nothing to listen to but empty shouts
And my small, cold hands only find one another

I fiddle with my necklace and wonder if you're alright
I hope you're not scared or lonesome out there

A part of me still thinks the blue jays might come back