The flute flutters a tune as
The poor ol’ Postman
Marches up the driveway
Lugging the loot
For both Willie and Donnie
Only to shoot
Him down.
Donnie deals in illusions
And rejected the package
That would be sure to
Relieve the Postman
Of his aching cough.
But, alas, in front of
Charley and Bernard’s sweat
Donnie yells to the Postman:
“Drop dead!”