another dollar fifty another ride on the bus the seat left alone
is still warm the person next to me talks to me as if he knows me
but that`s ok i don`t mind i look out the window while he talks
on i do the usual try to figure out what these people do.
in their own solitude some seem so plain some seem so lonesome
lost depressed and true it`s all inside of you.
wandering and waiting all your life for something new to change you
but it all seems to turn in circles nothing`s new finding
and learning all you need is something to guide you nothings
stimulates no inspiration