Introduction

“The Marvelettes – Please Mr. Postman” is an iconic song that has left an indelible mark on the world of music since its release in 1961. With its infectious melody and heartfelt lyrics, it continues to captivate audiences of all generations. But did you know that this song has a fascinating backstory?Today in Music History: The Marvelettes went No. 1 with 'Please Mr. Postman'

Did You Know?

  • “Please Mr. Postman” was the debut single of The Marvelettes, an American girl group hailing from Inkster, Michigan.
  • It became their first and only No. 1 hit on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, making them trailblazers in the music industry.
  • The song has been covered by numerous artists over the years, showcasing its enduring appeal.
  • The Marvelettes’ harmonious vocals and the catchy tune of “Please Mr. Postman” have made it a timeless classic.Wanda Young, Former Lead Singer of the Marvelettes, Passes Away at 78

Video

Lyrics: Please Mr. Postman

(Wait) Oh yes, wait a minute, Mr. Postman
(Wait) Wai-hey-hey-hey-it, Mr. Postman

(Please, Mr. Postman, look and see) Whoa yeah
(Is there a letter in your bag for me?) Please, please, Mr. Po-oh-ostman
(‘Cause it’s been a mighty long time) Whoa yeah
(Since I heard from this boyfriend of mine)

There must be some word today
From my boyfriend so far away
Please, Mr. Postman, look and see
Is there a letter, a letter for me?
I’ve been standin’ here waitin’, Mr. Postman
So so patiently
For just a card or just a letter
Sayin’ he’s returnin’ home to me

Please, Mr. Postman
(Please, Mr. Postman, look and see) Whoa yeah
(Is there a letter in your bag for me?) Please, please, Mr. Po-oh-oh-ostman
(‘Cause it’s been a mighty long time) Whoa yeah
(Since I heard from this boyfriend of mine)

So many days, you’ve passed me by
You saw the tears standin’ in my eye
You wouldn’t stop to make me feel better
By leavin’ me a card or a letter

Please, Mr. Postman, look and see
Is there a letter, oh yeah, in your bag for me?
You know it’s been so long
Yeah, since I heard from this boyfriend of mine

You better wait a minute, wait a minute
(Wait a minute, Mr. Postman)
Whoa, you better wait a minute
Please, please, Mr. Postman (Wait a minute, Mr. Postman)
Please check and see
Just one more time for me

You gotta wait a minute (wait), wait a minute (Wait a minute, Mr. Postman)
Oh you better wait a minute, wait a minute
Please, Mr. Po-ostman (Wait a minute, Mr. Postman)
Don’t pass me by, you see the tears in my eyes

You better wait (Wait)
Wait a minute (Wait a minute, Mr. Postman)
Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute
(Wait, wait a minute, Mr. Postman)
Please Mr. Postman

You Missed

BOUND BY A STORMY TIDE OF TOXIC LOYALTY AND DEEP DEVOTION, LORETTA LYNN TURNED HER HUSBAND’S GREATEST DEMONS INTO THE UNFLINCHING ANTHEMS OF WORKING-CLASS AMERICA. When fifteen-year-old Loretta Webb married twenty-one-year-old Oliver “Doolittle” Lynn in 1948, she stepped into a life that would test every ounce of her endurance. It was Doolittle who bought her a modest seventeen-dollar Sears guitar—the very instrument that unlocked her destiny—and pushed a terrified young mother onto stages to share her voice with the world. Without his initial push, the legendary Coal Miner’s Daughter might never have found her path. Yet their domestic reality was a far cry from a romanticized country ballad. Doolittle’s heavy drinking, infidelity, and volatile temper left deep emotional scars, but Loretta refused to break. Instead of retreating, she fought back, stayed for her six children, and funneled that raw, agonizing truth straight into her songwriting. Anthems like “Don’t Come Home A-Drinkin’” and “Fist City” ripped the gloss off conventional marriage, giving a public voice to millions of women suffering behind closed doors. She famously noted that every song she wrote carried a piece of her husband inside it. They crossed the milestone of forty-eight years together on January 10, 1996. As Doolittle’s health deteriorated months later, Loretta sang “Wouldn’t It Be Great” to him—the final song she performed for the man who shaped her life before he passed away on August 22, leaving them just 225 days short of their forty-ninth year. Though their union was a turbulent storm of fierce love and deep pain, Doolittle gave her the instrument, their trials gave her the truth, and Loretta forged both into an immortal musical legacy.

BROUGHT IN SOLELY TO SATISFY A RADIO SPONSOR’S ODD DEMAND, ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD ROSE MADDOX STEPPED UP TO THE MICROPHONE AND BECAME THE UNTAMED, ELECTRIFYING HEART OF AMERICA’S MOST COLORFUL HILLBILLY BAND. Rose Maddox didn’t enter country music through a polished Nashville doorway paved with industry blueprints. She arrived via the brutal reality of Depression-era migration, pulling her family away from backbreaking fieldwork in California’s Central Valley where music wasn’t glamour—it was the only way to breathe after a grueling day of picking fruit. In 1937, her brother Fred managed to secure a radio slot for the family in Modesto, hitting a sudden roadblock when the sponsor insisted on having a girl singer. Out of pure necessity rather than career design, eleven-year-old Rose stepped forward. The moment she opened her mouth, however, that simple sponsorship checkbox became the entire focal point. Her voice was bright, razor-sharp, and entirely fearless, sounding less like a child helping out her kin and more like someone kicking the front door off its hinges from the inside. Dubbing themselves “America’s Most Colorful Hillbilly Band,” the Maddox brothers and Rose delivered a high-octane cocktail of honky-tonk drive, boogie-woogie, gospel heat, and flashy road-show swagger. Dressed in loud, eye-catching suits, they played with a raw ferocity that West Coast country had never witnessed. Long before country music knew how to frame women who were funny, stylish, and fiercely commanding, Rose stood right at the front—refusing to ever be treated as mere stage decoration. After the family band’s legendary run dissolved, she forged a formidable solo path, diving deep into bluegrass and earning a well-deserved Grammy nomination for $35 and a Dream, an album title that tipped its hat to her family’s hardscrabble journey west. The young girl once thrown on stage to fill a sponsor’s quota ultimately became the gold standard of raw authenticity—proving to generations of future artists that country music has always possessed an unquenchable fire.