I am a bus driver
|
and it's four in the morning
|
And I'm pressing out my clothes beside my bed
|
Fourteen years been on the job and with many miles behind
|
Still I'm up at three thirty to make sure I'm there on time
|
|
My car gets me along just fine to and from the station
|
But my castle is this Houston Metro Bus
|
My first stop is Ashbury.
|
And the sign's been gone for years
|
but all the same the people wait cause they know that I'll be there.
|
|
What would you say if I told you that I won't be by today?
|
Would you say that I'm just a bus driver
|
and what do I know,
|
just a bus driver
|
and what do I know,
|
just a bus driver
|
and what do I know?
|
|
Well, I'm always there by five fifteen
|
and lately I've been early
|
'cause Judith likes to be in early to the bank.
|
And she gives me conversation and a token good for riding.
|
And she's happy all alone
|
|
And then there's Charles in retail sales;
|
and I hope they pay him well
|
for the work that young man does
|
Cause I've never seen the inside
|
of a custom refrigerator
|
but I know he's the first and last one there
|
|
I wonder what they do all day,
|
and their respective works.
|
Suppose they give money and take money away.
|
Still, I'm just orbiting this town
|
with the post office my sun.
|
And I'm circling again.
|
|
And I wonder how this world would be
|
if I was never here to drive this bus around from Ashbury to Main.
|
Suppose this town would be the same
|
but with one bus' less exhaust.
|
But that bank and retail stores,
|
they just wouldn't be the same.
|
|
But what can I see from the limited confines of my bus driving seat
|
Only me
|
|
-----------------
|
Bus Driver
|
| Caedmon's Call |
