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