I'M GONNA TEAR DOWN THE MAILBOX

I'm gonna tear down the mailbox, tear up the address.
I never get no letters anyhow.
I'm gonna move to the country out on the R.F.D.
At least I'll get a catalogue to keep me company.
They say the postman always rings you twice. I don't know the gent.
Every time I answer, it's the landlord for the rent.

I'm gonna tear down the mailbox, tear up the address.
I never get no letters anyhow.
I'm gonna write to the paper, put me in an ad,
Tell the world me bed and board has left me ravin' mad.
I'm gonna buy a homing pigeon. I'll send him on a call.
I know I'll get an answer but, brother, that ain't all.

I'm gonna tear down the mailbox, tear up the address.
I never get no letters anyhow.
I'm gonna pay up my taxes so that I'll be free.
I don't want no doggone sheriff a-comin' C. O. D.
I had a girl who promised she would write, never would forget.
She practiced on my chequebook. She is up the river yet.

I'm gonna tear down the mailbox, tear up the address.
I never get no letters anyhow.
Why don't them gals write?
I'm gonna tear down the mailbox, tear up the address.
I never get no letters anyhow.

From Alberta Slim's No. 9 Song Book

* Word after sheriff a-comin' could be incorrect, as the print is very faded out through the years.