Waiting For The Mail

A prophet knocked upon my door I let him stand there in the sun As he left he turned and shouted "Stop me if you've heard this one" I'm walking up the street to your house And all the dogs just look away Somewhere there are bones beneath us But I don't ask and they don't say If the cars and criminals sing in your ear If you think the signpost will never appear That's when it's near A postman in a suit of mail Delivers me another joke Theres people somewhere doing something While I sit thinking in the smoke Still this hope just keeps returning And weeks push up through the concrete In the face of all this folly There are still some eyes to meet If the cars and criminals sing in your ear If you think the signpost will never appear That's when it's near