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| Leonard Cohen |
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| The Bus | ||||
| I was the last passenger of the day, I was alone on the bus, I was glad they were spending all that money just getting me up Eighth Avenue. Driver! I shouted, it´s you and me tonight, let´s run away from this big city to a smaller city more suitable to the heart, let´s drive past the swimming pools of Miami Beach, you in the driver´s seat, me several seats back, but in the racial cities we´ll change places so as to show how well you´ve done up North, and let us find ourselves some tiny American fishing village in unknown Florida and park right at the edge of the sand, a huge bus pointing out, metallic, painted, solitary, with New York plates. |
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