Monday, February 22, 2010

On The Y8 Going Home

The man on the back a da bus
He's a talkin' to us
But nobody's listenin'
Nobody cares
Nobody really hears

Sometimes he screams
Praise the Lord I'm saved I'm saved
Sometimes it's in a whisper
I look aroun' an' wha' do I see
All's wearin' an expression dat says
Mister mister

An ol' man of thirty-seven
I know 'cause I heard him say so

He's been dealt raw cards
Of which he chose a few
Now he's out of prison and worships life
Ready to start anew

Closer an' closer to my stop
He begins to roar
An' I jus' wanna get off the bus
'Cause I can' take no more

In my remaining seconds
I try to sympathize
Before I get off I turn around
An' I see the struggle in his eyes

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