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Friday, 21 December 2012

THE POSTMAN ALWAYS WRINGS

Dashing through the snow
in a worn out pair of boots
sack of Christmas post
like a burglar's swag of loot

Grimacing all the way
I wish I was in bed
I'm walking up and down the street
delivering instead

Oh soggy boots, soggy boots
soggy wet right through
a ton of Christmas cards to work
I wish it was a few

Oh soggy boots, soggy boots
soggy wet right through
Oh what misery it is
to do what postmen do

Now it's getting tough
that dog at number eight
if he rips my trouser leg
I'll trap him in the gate

A postman tries his best
He's Indiana Jones
for dogs at Christmas and all year
treat him just like bones


Oh soggy boots, soggy boots
soggy wet right through
a ton of Christmas cards to work
I wish it was a few

Oh soggy boots, soggy boots
soggy wet right through
Oh what misery it is
to do what postmen do

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