Get-Well-Cards - Conor Oberst

All the peacock people left their plumes in a pile

They look good to a fault

And the Gulf water’s warm like a bathtub

Full of lavender and epsom salt

See a bleach blond boy put his long board down

Help his girl get her sunscreen on

I thought about you in your little house

Think you’re lonely but I could be wrong and

I wanna be a bootlegger

Wanna mix you up something strange

Braid your hair like a sister

Name you like a hurricane

Right there

That’s the postman sleeping in the sand

He’s got a letter to deliver

But I can’t stay mad, oh

Right there

That’s the postman sleeping in the sand

He’s got a get-well-card to deliver

He’s gonna do it by hand

He’s gonna do it by hand

Now they drive their cars up and down the beach

It’s ridiculous and everybody knows

Hear the Mustangs rev at the four-way stop

You get ghosted when the light says go

But in a town like this

In the checkered flag dawn

It’s so empty it could make somebody dream

So maybe it’s you in your four-post bed

Sound asleep bu still grinding your teeth

I wanna be your happiness

I wanna be your common sense pain

Wrap your head in a picket fence

Rebuild after the hurricane

Right there

That’s the postman sleeping in the sand

He’s got my letters to deliver

But I’m still not mad, oh

Right there

That’s the postman sleeping in the sand

He’s got a get-well-card to deliver

He’s gonna do it by hand

He’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it

He’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it

He’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it by hand

Oh

Right there

That’s the postman sleeping in the sand

He’s got a letter to deliver

But I can’t stay mad, oh

Right there, that’s the postman asleep in the sand

He’s got a head-stack now to deliver

He wants to do it by hand

He’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it

He’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it

He’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it

He’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it by hand