To My Mr. Smith
Hey, you walk so slow
When the bus stops a joke
I guess you gotta think some more
Before you get home
Hey, tonight it's cold
And that jacket's so old
That the chill comes in through the holes
Why don't you stop in on your way
If there's something that you wanna say
You don't have to keep it inside, now
Hey, your days'll go by so slow
Do you think I don't know?
It's the same for everyone in this whole town
Writer/s: Casiotone for the Painfully Alone
