I pedal on this bicycle,
to deliver the parcel post.
I have to be fit to do this job.
but what I hate the most
are the cursed curs who try to assail –
(no wagging tail), they just want to bail
me up and chew my heels,
despite my loud appeals:
“Shoo, bugger off, leave me alone!”
I must pedal fast and try to get past,
but I wish I had a stone.
You will hear me moan and groan,
“I want to stay indoors.”
When I try to deliver it makes me shiver
to see those snapping jaws
and the size of those hairy paws.
Now listen while I preach –
It’s lucky that I’m tall, because if I were small
I wouldn’t be able to reach
the slots of the box.
Some are too high for an average guy
and wouldn’t you know,
some aren’t even there at all,
while the ones that are low
end up lost in the snow.
I’ve a letter here in my hand;
on tippy-toe I stand
but I cannot reach the slot.
The box is on the farthest edge,
and even though you might allege
I could try better with this damn letter,
I’m giving it all I’ve got.
To hell with the whole damn lot!
It’s nasty, you see, it’s very prickly –
it’s a horrible Holly hedge!
Here comes a big, black dog,
so I’m in for another slog.
I have to pedal hard –
It’s lucky that I’m not too fat;
I’m not a tub of lard.
My legs are pumping, round they go;
my heart is thumping, lungs do blow,
but that black dog was old and slow –
I beat it by a yard.
My bag is so heavy, it weighs a ton
and the road goes up a hill.
I’m no longer having any fun –
in fact, I’m feeling ill.
I just fell over when chased by Rover
which made all the parcels spill.
You must think that I’m a dill
to put up with this awful strain.
You’re right, sure enough, it’s far too tough,
especially in the rain
when my wheel got stuck in a drain.
I sat in a puddle and cried
with that growling dog at my side.
The mail was all soggy:
chewed up by the doggy,
so I crawled away home to hide.
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