I’m waiting for the bus to come
It’s been close to an hour
The rain is falling hard, making it seem quite lonesome
I can’t see anything, only a little flower

Someone finally walks up . . . with a gun
He must like to be in power
I wonder what he’s done
But he’s just a person who’s riding the bus for maybe an hour

So we both stand in the rain waiting for the bus to come
I’m not scared cause I can still see the flower
The bus will separate the sum
Yet we will end up at the same tower in our final hour

Someone finally walks up . . . but it’s a nun
She keeps her distance but looks for the church tower
She is calm even though there is a gun
But she’s just a person who’s riding the bus for maybe an hour

So we all stand in the rain waiting for the bus to com
I’m not scared cause I can still the flower
The bus will separate our sum
Yet we will end up at the same tower in our final hour

Someone finally walks up . . . a kid who looks to be having no fun
He waits next to me looking very sour
The kid looks so underpowered
But he’s just a person who’s riding the bus for maybe an hour

So we all stand in the rain waiting for the bus to come
I’m not scared cause I can still see the flower
The bus will separate our sum
Yet we will all end up at the same tower in our final hour

Someone finally walks up but it’s the bus driver which makes us all rather glum
He looks tired considering the last hour
Maybe he’s wondering where the bus is and then some
But he’s just a person who’s in the rain for maybe an hour

The bus never did come
I wonder what happened to that little flower
We left without speaking, thus separating our sum
But we will meet here again before our final hour