Grindcore Pulse of the Postman

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Boots hit pavement, crack of dawn grind Heavy bag swingin’, pressure’s mine Rain or heat, I stay in line Signed and sealed, I’m right on time Engine hummin’, route aligned Steel on wheels, built to grind No disguise, no fake design Blue-collar soul, one of a kind I’m the mail man, real man, stand in line Carry your world every single time No myth here, no grand design I deliver your shit—every drop, every dime Male man, real man, built to grind Rough hands steady, never decline Male man, real man, state your sign Every damn day, I redefine Boxes stacked up, labels signed Lives in parcels, all combined From checks to meds, supply line I move it all, I stay confined No throne claimed, no crown to shine Still keep the gears all intertwined Through storm, through dirt, through every sign I show up fast—on time, on time I’m the mail man, real man, no disguise Truth in the work, see it in my eyes No illusion, no alibis I deliver your life—no compromise Male man, real man, forged in grind Know my route like it’s in my mind Male man, real man, stay aligned Carry the weight of all mankind Break me down? I realign Miles stack up, I redefine Weight stays heavy, still I climb Every doorstep—impact time From city streets to county line Every door gets what is mine You depend on this design I move the world through space and time I’m the mail man, real man, final line Hold it down till the end of time Male man, real man, stamped and signed I deliver your shit—every time Male man Real man Mail man I am