I Watch The Sun Come Up While You're Sleeping It Off

When You Go Out For Your News And Curse Your Smoker's Cough

I Bring You Bills To Pay

And Letters From The State

Then You Go Inside And I Walk Away

I'm The Postman

I'm The Postman



And I Walk You Street For Hours Like Some Kind Of Jerk

With My Grey Clip Tie And My Pressed Blue Shirt

And When You Leave For Work

I Think You're Turning To Flirt

But You're Turning Away And It Always Hurts

I'm The Postman

I'm The Postman



I Know Why You Stare East, It's Where Your Man's Run Off

And I Know Why Your Trash Bin Is Brimming With His Art

'Cause When He Was Abroad

I Read His Last Postcard

He Met Some Brit Named Cass And It Broke Your Heart

I'm The Postman

I'm The Postman