Last modified on 27 January 2012, at 21:21

The Postal Service

The members of The Postal Service

The Postal Service is an American electronic indie pop band comprised of Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie and producer Jimmy Tamborello of Dntel, Headset and Figurine.

SongsEdit

  • I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
    In our eyes are mirror images and when
    We kiss they're perfectly aligned
    And I have to speculate that God himself
    Did make us into corresponding shapes like
    Puzzle pieces from the clay
    • "Such Great Heights"
  • Last week I had the strangest dream
    Where everything was exactly how it seemed
    Where there was never any mystery of who shot John F. Kennedy
    It was just a man with something to prove
    Slightly bored and severely confused
    He steadied his rifle with his target in the center
    And became famous on that day in November
    • "Sleeping In"
  • Again last night I had that strange dream
    Where everything was exactly how it seemed
    Where concerns about the world getting warmer
    The people thought they were just being rewarded
    For treating others as they'd like to be treated
    For obeying stop signs and curing diseases
    For mailing letters with the address of the sender
    Now we can swim any day in November
    • "Sleeping In"
  • I feel must interject here.
    You're getting carried away feeling sorry for yourself,
    with these revisions and gaps in history.
    So let me help you remember;
    I've made charts and graphs that should finally make it clear.
    I've prepared a lecture on why I have to leave.
    • "Nothing Better"
  • I want so badly to believe,
    That there is truth, that love is real.
    And I want life in every word,
    To the extent that it's absurd.
    • "Clark Gable"
  • I've got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water,
    And pictures of you and i'm not coming out
    Until this is all over
    And i'm looking through the glass where the light bends
    At the cracks
    And i'm screaming at the top of my lungs pretending
    The echoes belong to someone
    Someone i used to know
    • "We Will Become Silhouettes"
  • I wanted to walk throught the empty streets and feel something
    constant under my feet but all the news reports recommended
    that I stay indoors. Because the air outside will make our cells divide
    at an alarming rate, until our shelves simply cannot hold
    all our insides in and that's when we'll explode;
    And it won't be a pretty sight.
    • "We Will Become Silhouettes"
  • This place is a prison
    And these people aren't your friends
    Inhaling thrills through $20 bills
    And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again
    And again
    • "This Place is a Prison"

External linksEdit

Wikipedia
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