About the work
LYRICS:
I leave the letters under the sun,
one by one, till the day is done.
Though none are written just for me,
my soul begins to poetry.
I'm just a postman
the poet gave me his hand.
Just a simple man
with an open heart
The poet said that's all it takes
to. feel love to poetry trace
I saw her once, the world stood still,
her gaze, a spark I couldn’t kill.
Her beauty caught me unaware—
the poet helped me lay it bare.
I don’t know of books or ink or rules,
but I hear the sea in his gentle tools.
The poet showed me how to see,
that poetry had dreamed of me.
How do I explain love’s flame?
It uses words,
it uses pain—
delirium and scattered lines,
the universe in signs.
Perfect metaphors that climb,
in rhyme,
and soothe your soul in time.
[Chorus]
I’m just a postman in the end,
a doorman for the words we send.
In love’s great house, I play no role,
but I still dream of my sweet soul.
She, always singing like a stream,
she dances softly through my dream.
She’s the one who shaped my song,
the one to whom my hopes belong.
Verses on a bicycle,
carried by the wind, so lyrical.
In every bell, in every bloom,
a piece of love finds room.
Though no one ever reads my name,
I send metaphors just the same.
To her I turn, to her I pray—
a postman lost along love’s way.
A courier of passion’s thread,
of verses… with no sense in my head.
[Verse 2]
He spoke so slowly, like the sea,
with words that echoed endlessly.
And I, clumsy, barely wise,
began to see through clearer eyes.
You don’t just write with lips alone—
goodbyes can dream, though all unknown.
Inside the mailbox of my chest,
a song was born that couldn’t rest.
[Chorus]
Verses on a bicycle,
carried by the wind, so lyrical.
In every bell, in every bloom,
a piece of love finds room.
Though no one ever reads my name,
I send metaphors just the same.
A humble man with no pretense,
a translator of love’s immense.
[Bridge]
If I left, if I withdrew,
I followed what I thought was true.
For letters burn, and poems can rise—
a new flame born from old goodbyes.
[Coda]
Verses on a bicycle…
my paper soul grows whimsical.
And though no one may hear my song,
the echo of goodbye lives strong—
from the poet... and from us both all along.
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Title The Simple Man
LYRICS:
I leave the letters under the sun,
one by one, till the day is done.
Though none are written just for me,
my soul begins to poetry.
I'm just a postman
the poet gave me his hand.
Just a simple man
with an open heart
The poet said that's all it takes
to. feel love to poetry trace
I saw her once, the world stood still,
her gaze, a spark I couldn’t kill.
Her beauty caught me unaware—
the poet helped me lay it bare.
I don’t know of books or ink or rules,
but I hear the sea in his gentle tools.
The poet showed me how to see,
that poetry had dreamed of me.
How do I explain love’s flame?
It uses words,
it uses pain—
delirium and scattered lines,
the universe in signs.
Perfect metaphors that climb,
in rhyme,
and soothe your soul in time.
[Chorus]
I’m just a postman in the end,
a doorman for the words we send.
In love’s great house, I play no role,
but I still dream of my sweet soul.
She, always singing like a stream,
she dances softly through my dream.
She’s the one who shaped my song,
the one to whom my hopes belong.
Verses on a bicycle,
carried by the wind, so lyrical.
In every bell, in every bloom,
a piece of love finds room.
Though no one ever reads my name,
I send metaphors just the same.
To her I turn, to her I pray—
a postman lost along love’s way.
A courier of passion’s thread,
of verses… with no sense in my head.
[Verse 2]
He spoke so slowly, like the sea,
with words that echoed endlessly.
And I, clumsy, barely wise,
began to see through clearer eyes.
You don’t just write with lips alone—
goodbyes can dream, though all unknown.
Inside the mailbox of my chest,
a song was born that couldn’t rest.
[Chorus]
Verses on a bicycle,
carried by the wind, so lyrical.
In every bell, in every bloom,
a piece of love finds room.
Though no one ever reads my name,
I send metaphors just the same.
A humble man with no pretense,
a translator of love’s immense.
[Bridge]
If I left, if I withdrew,
I followed what I thought was true.
For letters burn, and poems can rise—
a new flame born from old goodbyes.
[Coda]
Verses on a bicycle…
my paper soul grows whimsical.
And though no one may hear my song,
the echo of goodbye lives strong—
from the poet... and from us both all along.
Work type Music
Tags alternative
-------------------------
Registry info in Safe Creative
Identifier 2505181775627
Entry date May 18, 2025, 6:26 AM UTC
License All rights reserved
-------------------------
Copyright registered declarations
Author - Composer 100.00 %. Holder Kiara Farei. Date May 18, 2025.
Author - Lyricist 100.00 %. Holder Kiara Farei. Date May 18, 2025.
Author - Song producer 100.00 %. Holder Kiara Farei. Date May 18, 2025.
Information available at https://www.safecreative.org/work/2505181775627-the-simple-man
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Registration: 2505181775627
