Dirty July morning, clothes flapping on the line
   flapping on the line clothes flapping on the line
   The cops sent out the warning Phantom One has done his time
   Phantom One has done his time, Phantom One has done his time
   But that don't mean nothing to me, could care less if he rots in his cell
   Cause I've got a fuse of my own to burn as I stand in line and take my turn
   Waiting for the mail
  
   I was promised a letter, at least a Japanese postcard
   Japanese postcard, Japanese postcard
   And after all of these days I can count all the ways
   I ain't seen nothing like that so far
   Nothing like that so far, nothing like that so far
   And I wonder if she's in trouble, what kind of demons are on her trail
   But there's nothing I can do, to change the changes she's been through
   While I've been waiting for the mail
  
   Last night I dreamed about a motel near the border
   A dim light and a $20 room
   Swear poured from my brow as I lay there frozen
   I was wide awake and not a minute too soon
  
   Well the buzzards fly up to the heavens, dogs sound asleep on the porch
   Sound asleep on the porch, dogs sound asleep on the porch
   And it's a year to the day that the fields burned away but I still carry this torch
   I still carry this torch, I still carry this torch
   And I'm feeling a little bit seasick, but I still got one hand on the rail
   And one eye on the road, cause there's where my future will unfold
   While I'm waiting for the mail
  
   And there's nothing I can do, to change the changes she's been through
   While I've been waiting for the mail