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I watch the sun come up while you're sleeping it offWhen you go out for your news and curse your smoker's coughI bring you bills to payAnd letters from the stateThen you go inside and I walk awayI'm the postmanI'm the postmanAnd I walk you street for hours like some kind of jerkWith my grey clip tie and my pressed blue shirtAnd when you leave for workI think you're turning to flirtBut you're turning away and it always hurtsI'm the PostmanI'm the PostmanI know why you stare East, it's where your man's run offAnd I know why your trash bin is brimming with his art'Cause when he was abroadI read his last postcardHe met some brit named Cass and it broke your heartI'm the postmanI'm the postman
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"Postman" as written by Andrew Kenny
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
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From Letras Mania