I was waiting for the bus
Counting out my money
And a copper wheel rolled out of my hand
And landed with a ping
On the pavement
I was about to pick it up
But left it
Knowing someone might need a little luck
I write poetry, I guess
I was waiting for the bus
Counting out my money
And a copper wheel rolled out of my hand
And landed with a ping
On the pavement
I was about to pick it up
But left it
Knowing someone might need a little luck