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lyrics

I saw mister postman walkin' down the street
I said, "Hey, mister postman, get some posts for me
I got some signs that need a postin'
For a party I'm a hostin'
And my fence, it needs a holdin'
And some posts to keep from foldin'"
And he said, "Hey kid - who do you think I am?
I can't get you no posts, I'm just the postman."

I saw mister undertaker walkin' down the street
I said, "Hey undertaker, undertake a task or two for me
I got a lawn that needs a mowin'
And a row that needs a hoeing
And my yard, it needs a raking
Yeah, it's quite an undertaking."
And he said, "Hey kid - you seem a real nice guy
But you've got it all wrong, and I'm'a try to clarify
You see, the butcher doesn't butch
The mobster doesn't mob
The worker's name is not always the name of the job
Like the pharmacist, the waiter
The cop, the operator
And I know it's not amusing and can be a bit confusing
But a lawyer doesn't law, a cowboy doesn't cow
And if operators operated, we'd all be dead by now
But see, making sure you're taken care of
When you meet your maker
That's the job that's undertaken
When you call the undertaker."

"The undertaker takes you under when you die, it's true," I said, "but if you undertake my tasks, there's cake in it for you, c'mon."

I saw mister milkman walkin' down the street
I said, "Hey, milkman, what can you get for me?"
He said, "Well, milk is my game
Why can't you tell from my name?
I bet you're feeling pretty sorry
'Cause it's self-explanatory
But I see you've been misled, so I'm gonna make concessions
Now it's time to talk to you about the name of some professions
See the doctor, he doctors
The fisherman, he fishes
And the dishwasher, he, of course, 'a washes all the dishes
And every single Sunday, like that old book teach
We're gonna go down to the preacher and hear him preach
So here's the point that I'm 'a pointin' at
To set it straight for you:
What the worker's name say
Is what the named worker do."

Varsity letterman walkin' down the street
I said, "Hey, letterman, got some letters for me?
There's some mail I've been expecting
And some bills that need reflecting
On the payments that they're needing
And some letters to be reading."
And he said, "Hey kid - who do you think I am?
I can't get you no letters
Go ask the postman."

credits

from This Must Be A Place, released September 29, 2023
Produced by Jed Davis
Music and lyrics by Jed Davis, published by Eschatonality/ASCAP

Jed Davis: vocals, piano
Davi Mello: acoustic guitar, banjo
Itaiguara Brandão: upright bass
João Paolo Drumond: bongos, snare, tambourine, woodblock, cowbell
Josh Plotner: flute, harmonica

Recorded by Shane Patterson at Subcat, Syracuse, NY
Additional recording by Jed Davis at Pile of Sound, and Musiversal
Mixed by Nuno Fernandes
Mastered by Chris Hanzsek

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Jed Davis Syracuse, New York

Song designer; founding member of The Hanslick Rebellion, Skyscape, Collider; oblivious to genre, trends and the passage of time.

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