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