I am floating with the birds
I am talking with the weeds
Look what you've done to me
I am still dressed up from the night before
Silking hose and old Parisian coat
And I fail like a queen
at the bus stop on the street
Look what you've done to me
There is a beautiful morning on the ghetto
Finer than the day before
The ants are crawling over my pants as to say
There's really old roses blooming on the ghetto
Bird from paradise are taller than me
The weeds grow high, the birds flicker by
Children are walking to school
In the midst of all of this profusion
The bus pull up to take me back home
The bus driver looks like an old African prince
The babies have tears in their eyes
And i fail like a queen
On this sunny city bus
Look what you've done to me
