They'd said she was dead
but she served me just now
In the Royal Mail sorting office
up on Green Road

Fished out the river
was how they all had her
On a dark, wet Sunday
and I thought of the girl

Who twenty years before
sat beside me in Tech. Drawing
Who I didn't fancy
but liked all the same

Double periods
On Tuesday mornings
In that concrete box
that wasted our time

She served me just now
in the Royal Mail sorting office
She's cheated death
We're not ready to die.