Miguel sits at the corner store with skin like terra cotta pottery
Waiting for a bus, a bus
With a hat like Billy Jack's, a smile like Freddie Prinz
He comes and he goes with the dust

Looking out his window world as the desert skies open up and introduce
The stars that dance in space
But he falls fast asleep with a dream that he keeps
Underneath his pillow case

Carry me whoever you are
I'm waiting with masses for the rites of passage
And wishing on a superstar

Stacy adds to her billfold and slides down a brass pole
For free drinks and a bigger tip
Posing from a good home that haunts when she's all alone
She sheds what she cannot strip


Show us the Way, show us the way

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