It's early Thursday morning
I hear a knock at my door
I'm not expecting anyone
So I peek through the peephole
You're wearing your Sunday best
Bust that won't fool me
I see you're carrying a clipboard
And a bag full of mystery

You're a traveling salesman
A traveling salesman
You're a traveling, traveling, traveling
Salesman

I'm looking out my window
Enjoying my tea and the morning sun
I see you coming three houses down
With an armful of pamphlets
I don't need a new vacuum
The Internet is my encyclopedia
I don't need an upgrade or a satellite
Not even if the price is right

You're a traveling salesman
A traveling salesman
You're a traveling, traveling, traveling
Salesman

I don't need your junk
Just put it back in your trunk
The dogs are barking shooing you away
I'll just watch you drive to the next guy's place

I can't wait for the evening
But that doesn't mean we're safe
You'll pick up your phone and block the number
And try to keep us on the line until we cave

You're a traveling salesman
A traveling salesman
You're a traveling, traveling, traveling
Salesman
You're a traveling salesman
A traveling salesman
You're a traveling, traveling, traveling
Salesman