1. On The Bus

From the recordings Dust & Fiction and Complete Recordings


Every morning you get on the bus at Lake Street
And every morning you sit in the second row
You always twist your hair with that colored pencil
Never looking up 'til we get downtown

You will never know I want to meet you
You will never know that I can't breath
I'll wait another day to strike up a conversation on the bus

I wonder what you think glancing through the window
I wonder where you go when you step outside
I know I'm going crazy with the speculation
I've got a lot to ask you but it's all tied up inside

Would you like to see me? Oh that's all I want to say
I know it's nothing fancy, but then words get in the way

Today you missed your spot and glided down the aisle
And you dropped your hat when you passed my row
When I gave it back and I thought I saw a smile
And it spoke to me more than a book of poems