Started rubbin' my eyes when I heard the birds talk Hey mister sleep you're gonna have to take 'walk But nothing has 's much pow'r to make me rise as the post man Bringin' a mornin' surprise
Here he comes Here he comes Too much I've got a letter I'd better get out of bed I said
Then I pulled the covers right up to my nose I thought well the letter might be for Rose Her mother she writes very regularly Mister Postman have you got a letter for me
Mr. Heron, yes I have yes I have Too much I've got a letter I said with some joy It came from Maria, Chicago, Illinois
And I never have met her but she sounds sweet like a flower Grown on a rubbish heap She's got a lot of things 'round her She's gotta work out But she's gonna make it and I have no doubt
Maria, the plane that brought your letter must have felt a little bit lighter The air hostess must've felt brighter bringing your letter over the sea And the pilot was your Orpheus singing a song for you Maria I'm singin' Hear me singin' I'll be your Orpheus too
By the time you hear this song your troubles will be gone And you'll be left with what's shinin' through your letter you (repeat)
Compositor: James Michael Heron (Mike Heron) ECAD: Obra #45577540