I Got Off the Bus

I got off the bus. A friend of mine said he'd pick me up. But he never showed up, So I made my own way. Little Mexico came into sight. What once were just dying streets, what once were just small town streets, now the sprawl scene never ended. I called a girl I used to know, A nurse from St. Mary's. Had a place on 7th street, but I left her in a rough way. Her dad said she got married, was living in Stockton with a baby. He said he couldn't remember me, but I knew he was lying. And the night scene was never-ending. I woke up to see a policeman standing over me. I told him, "I grew up down the street, that had to mean something," He said he didn't care as long as I didn't block the stairs. I sat in the movies. Drank off a pint until I fell asleep, Until a nervous 16-year-old kid was telling me I had to leave. I know what you abandon dies, and what you leave leaves you too. I know you can't go back if there's nothing to go back to. I sat by the river, the sky was full of stars and the water was rustling. There were men camped across from me, and the night scene never ended. Oh, the night was never-ending. I woke up to see a policeman standing over me. I told him I didn't mean to run out on everything. He said he didn't care as long as I got out of there.