You are a city bus
Driving on the wrong side of the road
Where did you go?

You are the yellow paint
Holding onto fire escapes

You are a crowded stranger
Leaving when I say
That everybody always
Makes me feel the same

You are a heart for sale
Selling yourself short

You're lonely is loud

Where's your voice pouring
Through the line
Your house on the hill
Every day was springtime

Now there's a crowded stranger
Missing when I say
When everybody always
Makes me feel the same