I'm pounding the pavement,
waiting on a stationary letter
from a Nashville man.
It's the waiting that I'm running from as fast as I can.
And when I'm breathing too hard, think, well,
that's how I like it.
9 to 5,
running from my thoughts before I take on the night
shift.
I'm getting ready for the bad news,
looking good,
and hoping for some good luck.
Praying for a weekend hour when a
package or a flower's gonna show up.
And when the night falls,
baby,
I'll be drinking a glass,
feeling lonesome.
The gentleman who bought it's real nice,
but I don't wanna hold up.
Cuz I'm pounding the pavement,
waiting on a stationary letter from a Nashville man.
It's the waiting that I'm running from as fast as I can.
I'm getting pictures in the mailbox,
the first models,
hot tops,
and sweet deals.
No messages,
no packages,
no postcards telling how he feels.
And what could be better than the Tennessee weather and a man alone?
How about the two of us together,
we could talk without a letter or a telephone.
I'm pounding the pavement,
waiting on a stationary letter from a Nashville man.
It's the waiting that I'm running from as fast as I can.
I'm pounding the pavement,
waiting on a stationary letter from a Nashville man.
And I'm losing all hope in the US Post and my Nashville man.
I'm losing all hope,
but I've waited as long as I can.