This Old Bus

(This is a parody of the song "This Old Porch" written by Lyle Lovett and Robert Earl Keen.)


This old bus is like a grey and black Texas armadillo,
Lying on the highway, just hit by an 18-wheeler,
And it's rotting on the blacktop in the hot August sun,
With vultures circling 'round, you know their work is never done.

This old bus is like a couple of slices of cold pepporoni pizza.
When did we have it delivered, was it Thursday or last Sunday?
And you're wishing for a greasy plate of hot enchiladas,
With lots of cheese and onions, but what's the use of dreaming?

This old bus is the coffee shop down on the main street of Texas,
Where you used to buy a donut and a cupa for a dollar,
And stay and talk for hours with the people all around,
But now the shop is empty, since Starbucks came to town.

This old bus is like a tired old cowboy who's not out of bed yet,
Even though the sun is rising, he's just doing all he can do
Just to sleep a little longer, on his fine feathered bed.
He's thinking them old cows can get along just fine without him,

And he dreams of better days, when he was younger, and full of tough,
And the pretty girls he danced with, they didn't mind his rough hands.
Sometime along the way his eyes grew dim, his teeth fell out,
And all those pretty girls are simply nowhere to be found.

And this old bus is just a long time of stopping and a going,
Of picking up and dropping off, of slowing down and hoping,
The engine don't give out just yet, let's make it home okay.
Tomorrow morning comes too soon, it's just another day.