Beck

Rtd

Beck
A sucker without a brain
Nothing 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 you
Now you're buried beneath the wheel just like a tortilla

Here comes that bus
Right into your face
Now you're flying
Now you're flying home

We can all climb aboard
The fare is easy to afford when you're dead
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

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