Summer in the Post

In a dingy old pub on a rainy London street, There's a tale 'bout a dog, a story quite unique. Summer was her name, a pup full of cheer, But she traveled the world, in a package so queer. Sent in the post, oh what a farce, From London to Paris, in a postal car. Summer the dog, with stamps on her head, Barking through customs, off to who knows where. First stop was Berlin, a city so bold, Postman scratched his head, couldn't quite unfold. Next she went to Rome, with a postman so jolly, Summer in a box, oh the postman's folly. Sent in the post, oh what a farce, From London to Paris, in a postal car. Summer the dog, with stamps on her head, Barking through customs, off to who knows where. Across the ocean, to New York City lights, Summer wagged her tail, in a postman's sights. Then to Tokyo, in a parcel so small, Summer's global tour, having a ball. Back in London town, where it all began, Postman had a laugh, holding a plan. Summer the traveler, a dog so bold, In a punk rock pub tale, forever told. Sent in the post, oh what a farce, From London to Paris, in a postal car. Summer the dog, with stamps on her head, Barking through customs, off to who knows where. So here's to Summer, the dog in the post, From London to Shanghai, she wandered the most. A pint for the postman, who sent her away, In this punk rock pub, we'll remember her stay.