The Postman

I watch the sun come up while youre sleeping it off
When you go out for your news and curse your smokers cough
I bring you bills to pay
And letters from the state
Then you go inside and I walk away
Cause Im the postman
Im 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 youre turning to flirt
But youre turning away and it always hurts
Cause Im the Postman
Im the Postman
I know why you stare East, its where your mans 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
Cause Im the postman
Im the postman