She sat there like a photograph
Of someone much further away
We shared a brief bus stop
On one of those in between daysShe gave me her smile
And I looked underneath
At the lipstick on her teethShe asked me for a light
And if I thought her hair looked okay
We grew out of the small talk
Into stuff strangers just don't sayWe discovered we are both
Pleasantly furious half of the time
When we're not just toeing the lineWe sat underneath the shelter
As the rain came down outside
The bench was cold
Against the underside of our thighsI said, I think we need new responses
Each question's a revolving door
And she said, "Yeah
My life may not be something special
But it's never been lived before"We decided our urgency will wane
When we grow old
And there will be a new generation of anger
New stories to be toldBut I said, "I don't know if I can wait
For that peace to be mine"
And she said, "Well, you know
We've been waiting for this bus
For an awfully long time"