I was a postal worker from May until July I left because of allergies - the letters made me cry 8am on Fridays, 6am the rest Postal for the two months
Breaking Winter up by shooting numbers from the clock The cat sleeps on the atlas in Alsace Lorraine, dreaming long grass and birds on the wire I have
(Instrumental)
heart and snow on my pills The season is long and this season kills Don't you ever think that you might love me? The season is long and I'm coming home