The Number Ten Bus 

Music by Whitney Crist 

 

Swung my legs on out over open space, 

Dropped the foot or two to the road. 

Big old trucker grinned with his great old face, 

Said "This suitcase you got's quite a load." 

Then he tossed it to me and I slammed the door 

As his airhorn blasted "So long!" 

Felt that chill go through me like I've been here before, 

But the highways have never looked wrong. 

  

    'Cause I'm makin' my connection to the Number Ten bus, 

    Feel the autumn wind messin' my hair. 

    I'll be ridin' up front on the Number Ten bus, 

    The one that don't go anywhere. 

  

Dragged my suitcase on down the empty street, 

Lookin' in each window I passed. 

Hoped I'd see good folks and a place to eat 

'Cause this chance to stop might be my last. 

But the only trace of life that I could find 

Was the swirlin’ wind in the dust. 

One more empty place that I could leave behind-- 

I don't want to move on but I must. 

  

    Can I get me some directions to the Number Ten bus, 

    Is there nobody here who might care? 

    Won't you show me the way to the Number Ten bus, 

    The one that don't go anywhere. 

  

Seen my life skid by just like highway gray-- 

Can't tell much till you look out the back. 

And you never drift freely, anyway. 

Even Roller Coasters follow that track. 

Yet I keep on ridin', tryin' ev'ry town, 

Thinkin' maybe this one is right. 

If I quit decidin', Lord, I'd settle down 

And have one place to spend ev'ry night. 

  

    Will you help me find the station for the Number Ten bus, 

    I've saved all my life for the fare. 

    It's my time to be boardin' the Number Ten bus, 

    The one that don't go anywhere.

 

    The one that don't go anywhere.

Image from photo by Herb Isaacs