to Sam, love Sam

Roll bus roll, take me off. A rolled sweatshirt makes the window soft. If I fall asleep, don’t wake me up. Roll bus roll, take me up.

Midnight coming on a Monday night. I’m gonna go again because I don’t feel right. Quickpack, knapsack, Quicksnack, Quicktrain. 42nd street, Greyhound again.

Sam, the road is long and the ride is slow. Don't know where we are, or where we're going. I just know we're going somewhere. Sam, is this all we get? Is this the Big Plan? Cause I don't remember the last great thing I saw. I'm rolling by on old wheels, just waiting for the next big thing.

I wasn’t designed to move so fast. I wasn’t designed to have so much past. And in my mind's eye they all have so much fun. Nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run.

Sam, is the Moon taking visitors? Because I sent him a letter last month asking and he never got back to me. I asked him if I could come see him. Everyone tells me how they've been going to the moon the moon the moon. And I'm sick of it! They tell me how wonderful it is and that I should have seen this and that. Sam, I want to go to the moon! I want to go to the moon and come back with stories to tell. And songs to sing.

But I don't think the Moon is getting back to me any time soon. So here I am, once again---grounded. For now I guess I'll just hitch a ride on this old bus. At least I'll be going somewhere. I don't even know if I'm moving forward, just that I'm moving.

And then the sun setting on my youth makes that old shadow get taller. Oh But it's all fine as long as the bus makes the city behind me get smaller and smaller.

Haven't seen anything good, anything bad. Just a lot of road, and some scenery. I don't know, it's all kind of blurred.

But that's just cause I'm roll, roll, rolling by.

Roll bus roll, take me off. A rolled sweatshirt makes the window soft. If I fall asleep, don’t wake me up.

Roll bus roll, take me up.