There's no other equal
To this sequel
Of the Mailbox Lady
We will call "Shady"

She comes outside
Looking for her ride
Every minute
We have to grin it
She wears her coat
We have to gloat
It's ninety degree weather
her names not "Heather"
It gives me a chill
Or just a funny thrill
Her shades go up and down
Or all around
All day long
Where's my silly song?
Is she crazy?
Or just hazy?
She runs inside
Just to hide
Here's her ride
Oops, she went inside again
And clicked her mailbox, the end!