Shore to Shore

Shore to shore, got some land between Island life is living from a cup of broken queens Hit the jackpot rolling through a pipe dream in a knot And I'm missing what was pissing up the wall that I forgot I forgot, I forgot I am the bus driver, give me some grace You've never seen me and you don't know my face She was no Hattie Carroll, it was cold, it was blue And it only happened despite me or you Me or you, me or you Smoking pavements in the crimson flashing bars Drinking cocktail wine or cottage cream and passing strangers' cars Live in one-room housing with a roof to meet the sky And spell it, Jesus won't you please us 'cause you seem a damn nice guy Damn nice guy, damn nice guy We listened to passengers stamping old songs And the blues, what's to lose when you haven't done wrong? And drums too slow for a funeral beat And no strumming of strings and no stamping of feet Of feet, of feet It's awfully considerate of you to think of me And it's not so hard to see you smoking fags and drinking tea It's the crummy lost-at-seasick with a floating on the waves To join the other flotsam with the ripped up queens and knaves Queens and knaves, queens and knaves There lies a lady, she's gone and she's gone She'll be a fine lady before too long But I hit her head and she finished her walking She shouldn't be dead, she was too busy talking Busy talking, busy talking They can fill a cup or two and still disturb the peace It's never made it all the way from shore to shore, from west to east I read that independence was a lightness in your step You walked away, I felt so heavy at the start of every day Every day, every day I've been waiting an hour and the bus hasn't come I've been cursing my God for the lack of the sun I've been ruined by destiny, lowered by fate And the upshot of this is I'm going to be late To be late, to be late