The Wheels On The Bus

I open my eyes and I realise,
I'm far away from home,
No familiar sounds or smells,
No songs, no ringing bells,
The mornings are cold here,
So are the nights,
And aside from the lightbulb,
And my cigarrete nothing shines bright,

Away from my home,
Bound I was,
Chasing after a thought,
That I could stop the wheels on the bus,
But they keep on turnin',
They go round and round,
Taking me closer,
And closer down to the ground,

In the seven eleven,
Down and round the bend,
Or underground,
In the subway train,
I look into the eyes,
Of the battered and torn,
Of the weak and the strong,
Of the dusted and worn,

They walk and they do run,
They go here and there,
Without ever really,
Goin' anywhere,
Our screaming thoughts,
You can clearly hear,
If only I had a couple of bucks,
I could change my rotten luck,

Away from my home,
Bound I was,
Chasing after a thought,
That I could stop the wheels on the bus,
But they keep on turnin',
They go round and round,
Taking me closer,
And closer down to the ground,

Some days ago,
On the bus in the morn',
I looked at the face,
Of a boy, recently born,
His mother's face,
Was tired and grey,
The girl she once was and knew,
Her hopes and dreams had all faded away,

I found myself thinking,
And to myself I did say,
When she and hers,
One day drift away,
Nothing will she,
Have left behind,
No statues, no stories, no songs,
Of her, will you ever find,

Away from my home,
Bound I was,
Chasing after a thought,
That I could stop the wheels on the bus,
But they keep on turnin',
They go round and round,
Taking me closer,
And closer down to the ground,

I wanna stop 'em wheels,
Befor they ride me out,
But I know I can't,
No, no way no how,

Norberto Mujica