Friday, June 3, 2011

Song 4 Striking Posties

Mr. Postman, bring me the mail
(Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb)
Though on the Tahrir you're ready to sail
(Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb)
I know your union's not capitalistic
(Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb)
But what's the use of goin' all ballistic?
Postman, times change as they must.
Technology's left you in the dust.
Can't you see your strike'll fail?
Mr. Postman bring me the mail...

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