The Day I Packed my Shit and Left

Ah, I remember it well; I was 20 years old and ready for change
A geographical cure, if you will, but far away from home range
It started on a bus; my foot locker packed
With all that I owned, and weed in my purse; that’s a fact

Out of the woods, on to Boston, then New York here I come
Be ready for me, I’m young, eager, and kinda dumb
After Port Authority, I was on to places unknown
I didn't know that others on the bus, like me, sought ways to have their minds blown

I sat next to a rocker with a cassette player in his lap
He was going to California for a recording session; he played me his rap
Was he famous?  Would he be famous?  I didn’t even know
He looked like Steven Tyler, was from Boston, and he was on the go

It was 1977, and my time was free; I was going to Kansas
To live with a friend, get a new start like she did, who could blame us
As soon as it got dark, the bus driver stayed focused
And some guys started sucking from bongs, some huffed white powder, hocus pocus

Smoking joints was my routine, it seemed to be the same on the bus
In a small makeup kit in my pocketbook, I carried the essentials, of course
A roach clip, some seeds, a pipe, papers, and a couple of joints
All my girlfriends carried one too, we were prepared; we made our points

The people in the front of the bus awakened that morning with a cough
We had all gotten high and drunk; I imagined that we made a ruckus
But no one said a word, not even the bus driver
I think he was glad that we got out; he probably felt higher

I don’t remember the night’s drive, but it led to morning, eventually
With some blond dude passed out next to me, and a bottle of vodka on my lap, I had to pee
Smirking, nodding, all of us in the back of the bus thought that we hid the fact
That we got smashed and shit-faced, while we traveled with our shit packed

Heading to different places, we each had a mission with things to see
The last dude, tall and dark, as he left, shook my hand; inside was a packet; he tipped his hat and winked at me
He thanked me and said that I was fine and that he had fun on the trip
I smiled and remembered him rolling up a hundred, filling it, passing it around like a tip

After that party, the smoke had still to clear
I went to the bathroom, we were strangers that got high in the rear

After a stop in Indianapolis, I got out for a break
Saw a couple on a bench, who agreed to smoke a joint, since we both had to wait

Boarded another bus, the final one of the trip, sat near a dude with long hair
He said that he rode back and forth from Boston to Cali., asking me to come, it just wasn’t fair
He fell in love with me on that trip, and I had to let him down easy
Because I reached my destination, and I was on a mission; but I felt kinda queasy

He got mad and told me not to leave my seat
But when my stop came, I kissed him and left; my heart skipped a beat
He was beautiful and young, with full red lips
And he swayed when he walked, with smashingly hot hips

I never knew that would happen, on a bus, the day I packed my shit and left
Or that I would meet so many people, all wanting the same thing that I did, to escape, I guess
After arriving and meeting my friend, I couldn’t wait to tell her about the trip
It sounded like I was making it up, but she listened intently as she put a joint to her lip

High once again, the smoke had to clear
I was in a strange town; being high only intensified my fear
How I longed to follow all of the people I’d met on that bus, how could I forget
The day I packed my shit and left