Postcard Songtext
von Barry Saunders

He′s coming off the footpath
Staring with an empty spoon
She's talking with her eyes
But she′s not saying too much
She's been down there with him
Now she's a-walking back my way

There′s a man in the very next room
Never found a song to sing
He′s wearing a jester's hat
Talking everybody, everybody down
He′s standing on a long white cloud
Dreaming of old England shore


Too much, too much
Too much of nothing here today
Too much, too much
Too much of nothing here today

There's a mirror on that far wall
But I don′t dare to look
My lips are stuck together
And I got nothing left to say
The chairs and the tables are parting
As she's a-walking back my way

Too much, too much
Too much of nothing here today
Too much, too much
Too much of nothing here today
Too much of nothing here today