sucker without a brain

nothin to do again

step into the street

like the man on a flying trapeze



here comes that bus

right into your face

now you're flying

now you're flying home



isn't it just like a dream

sirens and people and everything

the driver tried to swerve

but he just didn't see ya

now you're buried 'neath the wheel

just like a tortilla



here comes that bus

right into your face

now you're flying

now you're flying home



when we're dead we can all climb aboard

the fare is easy to afford

sometimes you meet a fireman

sometimes you meet a dancer

this is one ride where you won't need no transfer



here comes that bus

right into your face