Get-well-cards Lyrics - Conor Oberst

All the peacock people left the 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 your bootlegger 

Wanna mix you up something strange 

Braid your hair like a sister 

Maim 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 asleep 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 the 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 you could make somebody dream 

So maybe it's you, in your four-post bed 

Fell asleep with still the blood in your teeth and, 

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 

Right there, that's the postman asleep 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's 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