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Writing letters, posting hoping, that you'll reply
Dear Lydia, ya didn't did ya
Why do you think that all of my intentions are lies
I wouldn't kid ya

Lydia i'm having a ball
Ache
Getting through to ya

No post shows up, heaven knows, i'm miserable now
I've got The Smiths on, writing this song
I would have called but it always just descends in to rows
I think you're pissed off

Lydia i'm having a ball
Ache
Getting through to ya

And it seems like i'm writing 'War and Peace'
In an attempt to set my mind at ease
My writings bad but my spelling's worse
it makes its way from brain to verse

And I think they're getting rather sick
Of me down at the post office
I might be a dog but i'm not your bitch Lydia

Dear Lydia i'm having a ball
Ache
Am I gettin through to ya?

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