All the peacock people left the plumes in a look good to a fault And the Gulf warm like a bathtub Full of lavender and salt
See a bleach blond boy put his board down Help his girl get her on I thought you in your little house Think you're lonely but I could be and...
I wanna be your mix you up something strange Braid your hair a sister Maim you a hurricane
Right there, that's the sleeping in the sand He's got a to deliver, but I can't stay mad, oh Right there, that's the postman asleep in the He's got a to deliver He's gonna do it by hand, gonna do it by hand
Now drive the cars up and down the beach It's ridiculous and everybody Hear the Mustangs rev at the four way You get ghosted when the light go
But in a town this, in the checkered flag dawn It's so empty you could make somebody So maybe it's you, in four-post bed asleep with still the blood in your teeth and...
I wanna be your I wanna be common sense pain Wrap your in a picket fence after the hurricane
Right there, that's the postman sleeping in the got my letters to deliver, but I'm still not mad Right there, that's the postman asleep in the He's got a to deliver He's do it by hand He's gonna do it, he's do it gonna do it, he's gonna do it He's gonna do it, gonna do it... by hand
Oh there, that's the postman sleeping in the sand He's got a to deliver, but I can't stay mad, oh Right there, that's the asleep in the sand He's got a head now to deliver wants to do it by hand He's do it, he's gonna do it He's gonna do it, gonna do it He's gonna do it, he's do it He's gonna do it, he's do it... by hand