Sittin' at the bus stop counting quarters to wash three shirts and a pair of jeans, wonderin' if you'll be thirteen cents short of a bus ride home again, askin' if there's a less humiliating way to get across town than walkin' in ripped shorts and a stained backpack.
Sittin' at the bus stop again just tryin' to make the most of this, gotta crawl out of the mud somehow eventually, wonderin' what it takes for the sun to shine, askin' how we got here anyway.
Sittin' at the bus stop I'm thirteen cents short of a ride home, Honey, you deserve better than this.
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