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    Scott Cook

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    1. The Bus Song

    From the recording Long Way to Wander (2007)

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    The Bus Song

    Scott Cook
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    Lyrics

    I dreamed I crossed the continent with poetry and speed
    robust and mythological on my chrome and black steed
    I woke up cramped in a tiny seat by a port-a-john that stunk
    with six or seven Southern sisters crying, “Mercy, you smell that funk?”
    I saw the rolling moonlit prairie and I knew I was glory-bound
    it’s just a shame we’ve gotta ride in on this flea-bitten Hound

    I got awakened by the singing of a drunk old nappy-head
    someone said “shut up” and that pissed off that sketchy dread
    he voiced his indignation to anyone who’d hear
    “none but the righteous shall survive,” he said, as he cracked another beer
    and stumbled off the bus in Windsor, thinking he was in Detroit
    the driver’d be as unforgiving as the border patrol boys

    well, I got off the bus in Michigan and that so-and-so left me behind
    similar high-school incidents flashed back across my mind
    ‘cept only then, I didn’t have to sleep on the sidewalk in Traverse City
    as we all know, faceless corporations have no pity
    they left me luggage-less and sweatshirt-less but I was still doing alright
    at least until the sprinklers came on in the middle of the night

    soaked and battered but unbeaten, I got back on the bus
    and what I saw there made me wonder what’ll come of all of us
    they’d sifted through the human barrel and gathered such strange pickins
    the scene would only be complete with bleating sheep and chickens
    I saw the jobless and the vision-less, the pursuing and pursued
    the whole shuddering scene all about to come unglued

    dirty bathrooms and babies, I thought I’d seen it all
    there was an eighteen-year-old mother going through withdrawal
    there were Bible-belters arguing their doctrinal schisms
    there were also rednecks advocating vigilante-ism
    we were just outside of ludicrous and headed for profound
    on that armpit-smelling, leg-cramping, smoke-colored Hound

    we were kinda like a family cause we couldn’t choose each other
    there was a pretty former stripper who was kinda like our mother
    she started sharing food and stories, made us all get along
    and for a while even the size of my seat didn’t seem so wrong
    I could take all kinds of people, bad parenting aside
    at least until we took our shoes off, you could say I enjoyed the ride

    she managed to hold on to my faith come whatever
    the sane and honest few of us have to stick together
    but then the driver left our mom behind and showed himself to be
    another inconsiderate so-and-so like the one who left me
    for a while I forgot everything I thought I’d learned
    I wished there was a Day of Judgment so we could laugh as he burned

    by the time we reached Vancouver it was all that I could do
    not to jump up and start singing songs to that oceanic blue
    I wandered down the street and bought a bag of that kind leaf
    had a smoke and donned my backpack with an exhale of relief
    I’m not saying I’m regretting, just the next time around
    I’m gonna ride that old Green Tortoise cause at least you can lay down

    • stay kind •

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