(Peter Cowap) You've walked out on the in crowd
with a girl that you've just met
for a little late night livin' on your own
and you want to dance till morning with
this piece of fairer s**
and she says it's late and wants to head for home
and it's all part of the last bus home
in a gigantic green house where the late night buses stop
you'll be waiting for another half an hour
with a man dressed in a raincoat
with a piece of string around
and a man whose dressed in mohair claims his car has broken down
and it's all part of the last bust home
for a moment you must swallow your pride
reach in your pocket for the money for your ride
widespread a thousand eyes
this girl you've met tonight won't even steal a kiss
with a rocking, jogging motion you're about to take a ride
on a public corporation's road domain
with the silver rails surrounding
and the smoke that fills the air
and a weary bus conductor climbs the stairs
and it's all part of the last bus
all part of the last bus home