expect me like one waits for mail, 

all lost dropped and cancelled. 

like foreign post, i leave twice a day 

but take a week to get there. 



expect me like one waits for rain, 

or sleet or hail or snowfall. 

like foreign post, i'm lost on the way 

and take a week to get there. 



i want to be delivered

'til i'm gone gone gone. 



the way it's sealed in my heart, i

t's guaranteed that i'm 

in your hands 



by morning, when you're ready 

to read between the lines 

and the paper isn't telling you anything. 



if you miss me, drop me a line 

in care of fin de siecle, 

mit luftwaffe. 



it's the end of the end of the end.