Demo produced by Galen Breen; vocal by Dusty Drake; written by Michael S. McIntyre and Dean Friscic
country
Lyrics
Near the end of my route in an uneven line
Sit eight mailboxes side by side
Relentless prairie wind has sandblasted them
Past the point of any pride
From my tray to each box I deliver the mail
In the fading gray winter light
And no one would know what was diff'rent
'Bout the third mailbox from the right
It was May and the grass was impossibly green
The day I met her at their door
The mem'ry hasn't dimmed, through long years it's been
Kept within my very core
She commuted to school to get her degree
And on many a moonlit night
I basked in the glow after seeing that girl
Past the third mailbox from the right
But our plans came undone in a blink of an eye
When loose gravel caused her car to slide
Neither snow nor rain nor heat has interrupted my rounds
Not once since the day she died
My retirement looms, soon another will drive
I doubt they'll ever pause, but they might
When they come to this old weathered mailbox
Yeah, the third mailbox from the right