They are without remorsenThey climb through the windowsnAnd they're sorting throughnLast week's lettersnAnd they find the onenWhere you break my heartnAh-ohnnTo me you would be so boldnTo write to me in coldnAnd they're passing outnYour handwritingnAnd they're making jokesnAt my expensenAh-oh, ah-ohnAh-oh, ah-ohnnAnd they're sealing upnAll that bitternessnAnd they seal it upnInto plastic bagsnAh-oh, ah-ohnAh-oh, ah-ohnnAh-oh, ah-ohnAh-oh, ah-ohnAh-oh