A                     E  
Roll bus roll, take me off.
                                     G   
A rolled sweatshirt makes the window soft.
                                D 
If I fall asleep, don't wake me up.
                       A
Roll bus roll, take me up.

 A                          E  
Midnight coming on a Monday night.
                                         G   
I'm gonna go again, because I don't feel right.
                                      D 
Quickpack, knapsack, quicksnack, quicktrain.
                       A
42nd street, Greyhound again.

 A                     E  
Roll bus roll, take me off.
                                     G   
A rolled sweatshirt makes the window soft.
                                D 
If I fall asleep, don't wake me up.
                       A
Roll bus roll, take me up.

 A                        E  
Old bodegas and old streetlights.
                       G   
Harlem looks so warm tonight.
                                               D 
All those cheap desserts memory hurts, I could die,
                                        A
I gotta to take 2 Tylenols and close my eyes.

 A                     E  
Roll bus roll, take me off.
                                     G   
A rolled sweatshirt makes the window soft.
                                D 
If I fall asleep, don't wake me up.
                       A 
Roll bus roll, take me up.

 A                            E  
I wasn't designed to move so fast.
                                     G   
I wasn't designed to have so much past.
                                          D 
And in my minds eye they all have so much fun,
                                A 
nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run

 A                                              E  
And then the sun setting on my youth makes that old shadow get taller,
               G  
oh but its all fine 
                                            D 
as long as the bus makes the city behind me get 
                       A 
smaller and smaller.

 A                     E  
Roll bus roll, take me off.
                                     G   
A rolled sweatshirt makes the window soft.
                                D 
If I fall asleep, don't wake me up.
                       A 
Roll bus roll, take me up.

 A                                 E  
Two weeks in England, two weeks in town.
                                     G   
Another hundred bucks of medication down.
                                     D 
Another sorry message that I need to send,
                                     A 
and another situation that I have to end.

 A                            E  
A midnight coming on a Monday night.
                                     G   
I'm gonna go again I might not be alright.
                                      D 
Its a bitter pill, and it's still the same:
                       A 
42nd Street, Greyhound again.

 A                                   E  
If I get one seat, I hope it's the window.
                                     G   
And if I get two seats I'll just lie down.
                                        D 
but if I get one seat and it's just the aisle,
                                         A 
I'll still be asleep before the hundreth mile.

 A                         E  
And then inside some tiny dream
                            G   
and inside that somekind of me
                                     D 
and outside us rolls the bus and the time 
                                 A
will go by till inside me I am asleep.

 A                     E  
Roll bus roll, take me off.
                                     G   
A rolled sweatshirt makes the window soft.
                                D 
If I fall asleep, don't wake me up.
                       A 
Roll bus roll, take me up.



/**
 * @tabbed by Marius Stuebs
 * @date 2012-01-01
 * @COPYLEFT ALL WRONGS D SERVED
 * Free for all uses.
 */