I'm waiting for a package, For which I'll need to sign, But I have a real problem, There's something else for which I pine. You see the problem's simply thus, I really need the loo, Not a rapid number one I'm afraid, But a biblical number 2. I'd love to know how he does it How does the postie know, When you need to be unavailable, When you really need to go. I know exactly what'll happen, It's guaranteed for sure, I'll just have dropped my trousers, when I'll hear him at the door. He'll ring and bang the knocker, I'll mutter 'bugger' and 'oh sh!t', I need to reach the door before, He leaves a 'Missed you' slip. It serves me right, I should have known, As I raise trouser above knee, I should have gone for Pasanda last night, Instead of Biryani. Alas I miss him, he has gone Continued on his round, A red a white note is nestling there, And the van nowhere to be found. 24 hours I'll have to wait, Till the postie makes it back, To the distant postie depot, With his postie sack. And now I've got to explain, 'It's something for the bike' She'll raise an eyebrow and I'll wince, 'It's something that you'll like' 'High efficiency air filter?, What a waste of money'!, I hate that bloody Postman, And I bet he thinks it's funny. So here I am, my legs are crossed, I'm trying with all my heart, I can hold on, I know I can, I'm just trying not to fart.
