My best friend is the postman
And I greet him without fail
I love those cards and letters
That keep coming in the mail
Bills show up with frequency
But I don’t find them numbing
It means I’ve done my part
To keep this country’s business humming
Politicians send me screeds
About opponents’ failings
And ask me to contribute
To the next round of their mailings
Some solicitations
Put my conscience in a pickle
If I don’t give, I’m guilty
Cause they sent me out a nickel
But one thing in the mailboxes
Across our fruited plain
Is regularly greeted
With aversion and disdain
County clerks throughout the lands
Must scour their dominions
To find a dozen citizens
To render their opinions
You check the date quite anxiously
Then instantly calm down
When you suddenly discover
You’ll be ill or out of town
Isn’t it ironic then
For trials in the news
So many are so willing
To enunciate their views
They didn’t hear the evidence
They weren’t that committed
But know the guy they’re trying
Should be sentenced or acquitted
You get the kind of system
And the justice you deserve
So, when you get the summons
It’s a good idea to serve
