Bus to Babylon

I was sitting in a big chain coffee shop

Reading magazines about classic rock

Looking for a lover but the big one dropped

Now that’s a thing of the past

I was hiding in a basement in Arkansas

Living off a case of canned apricots

Dreaming of a girl but her face was lost

Now that’s a thing of the past

(chorus) So I’ll just ride on

Fueling up the bus to Babylon

All the pretty girls are dead and gone

Just a thing of the past

I finally met a girl near Lafayette

With an automatic weapon pointed at my head

She said “it’s you or me,” baby and I do regret

She’s a thing of the past

Now I’m riding in a burnt bus made of scrap

Ripping through the desert like Mad Max

Automatic weapon sitting on my lap

Till I’m a thing of the past

(chorus)

From the Malibu shores of broken glass

To the sulfur stained south New Jersey grass

There’s loneliness clapping down a second wrath

On the things of thing of the past

There’s a small child crying in a field somewhere

Tugging on a tuft of her mother’s hair

Looking on a world that’s dark, but there

Till it’s a thing of the past.

(chorus)

So I’ll just ride on

Humming on a verse from a Dylan song

Till every drop of gasoline is gone

And I’m a thing of the past.