A Hymn For The Postal Service from Gerard Wood gez@oxphoto.co.uk Intro: D Em F#m G x4 D Em F#m G Sobriety breeds sincerity, D Em F#m G And Lydia Pond she is my gravity D Em F#m G I don't know how she felt when she took that E, A But in the morning she shaking, she was twitching, she was jerking. On June the 5th she moved to Paris, She could not stand the state of British politics, And I just can't convince her that I'm socialist, And every night I pray for mail in the morning. Chorus: D A D A Sweet Lydia Pond is doing it for me, D A Em (F#m G) A And I want to sing a hymn for the postal service. Sinful and proud since I stopped sleeping around, I am so faithful now to Lydia's handwriting, Mid 8: G That makes me guess the circumstances under which she wrote it, D Why she used the f-word when she never, ever spoke it, Em She pasted on a passport photo of herself in pigtails, A And underneath she'd written, "Did my touch make you less lonely?" Oh she promised me that we'd be creasing sheets, And that our bodies would be bruising, wrestling underneath, And I wanted to ask her how she cut her teeth, And why she let time slip through her skinny, skinny fingers. Chorus x2, Mid 8, repeat last line.