Mail-House Schlock

Kragen is sellin' car parts; gotta send junk mail,
To let the recipients know what is for sale.
An overpriced, upscale outfit's sellin' kids' swings.
They've gotta entice customers to buy these things,
With schlock—sendin' out bulk-mail schlock.
Every mailbox on my whole "sell" block
Is crammed full of this mail-house schlock.

Selmer's trying to sell me a saxophone,
Even though I am completely deaf of tone.
The firm from Troy* is selling toys and pots and pans.
This must really be pissin' off the mailman,
This schlock—he's gotta tote this schlock.
Every mailbox on my whole "sell" block
Is crammed full of this mail-house schlock.

One day when I got my 47th piece,
I realized this mailturd is killin' the trees.
I thought, I sure do hate all these damn companies.
I wish there was some way I could make them cease
This schlock—sendin' me all this schlock.
Every mailbox on my whole "sell" block
Is crammed full of this mail-house schlock.

The mail sack must feel like it is full of stones
The mailman must be herniatin' his backbone.
Some of these catalogs—big as "Vanity Fair"—
Why did they send me one on maternity care?
This schlock—don't want cheese in a crock!
Every mailbox on my whole "sell" block
Is crammed full of this mail-house schlock.

Here's a piece with a $500 rake.
This one's tryin' to vend me some oil of snake.
Here's one from the NBA sellin' Knicks tix—
Problem is, I live in California sticks.
We got jocks! But the Warriors suck!
So, on every firm, I wish a pox
For never-ending mail-house schlock,
Never-ending mail-house schlock,
Never-ending mail-house schlock. . . .