| I had a broken heart and a broken heel
|
| And a break down when those big old wheels
|
| Left with him and left me in a cloud of deep old dust
|
| She was sitting there
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| With her beehive hair
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| And said, «Honey, that’s a waste of good mascara.»
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| She handed me a pink Kleenex
|
| And I’ll never forget what she said next
|
| «Boys and buses got a lot in common
|
| They both pick up speed when you
|
| Try to stop 'em
|
| You could waste your breath
|
| You could scream and cuss 'em
|
| But there’s no use chasing after boys and buses.»
|
| She said, «Some leave with a guitar case
|
| And some wind up at an army base
|
| And some make out much under the hood
|
| And some roll it on out to Hollywood
|
| But the cost is lost when the ticket’s bought
|
| And you can’t catch what don’t wanna be caught
|
| But when those tail lights start to dim
|
| There’s another one coming right around the bend 'cause
|
| Boys an buses got a lot in common
|
| They both pick up speed when you
|
| Try to stop 'em
|
| You could waste your breath
|
| You could scream and cuss 'em
|
| But there’s no use chasin' after boys and buses
|
| Sometimes love and transportation
|
| Will spin their wheels and keep you waiting
|
| But anytime you think you’ve missed it
|
| Just give it ten or fifteen minutes
|
| Boys and buses got a lot in common
|
| They both pick up speed when you
|
| Try to stop 'em
|
| You could waste your breath
|
| You could scream and cuss 'em
|
| But there’s no use chasing after boys and buses
|
| Yeah, there’s no use chasing after boys and buses." |