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
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