I saw you on the bus

I saw you on the bus. I never knew you, but I knew you when. When things were nice and quiet. If I could pile up all this crap into one big heap of shit, I'd have plenty of space to lay my head, to rest it on your shoulder. Am I ever going to rise above? Am I ever going to be someone? You replied. This is what you said: “You silly child, you're the apple of my eye. And if ever I were to pass away, and if ever I were to die, who'd be here to cry, to cry for me? Who would be here to say, ‘Oh, I wish it had been I.’”