The Postman

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 'Cause I'm the postman I'm the postman And I walk your streets for hours like some kind of jerk With my gray 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 'Cause 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 'Cause I'm the postman I'm the postman