The bus is a dirty dirty bird

Nice people loud people chatty just to be chatty people scumbag pimps, born agains, hobo derelict, prostitute feind, mexicans blacks elderly disabled, drugs all around, mentally labeled.. it's a melting pot on the bus...after the last few months it is me....not like in the beginning when I was just another foreign optimist,

little girl transplanted with her sunshine and a smile,

  inevitably the dirt adds up, incredibly this scumy bench fuZz and the fast fuckin talkers only an idiot would trust, (I've been that idiot more than 100xs)

I've had enough already to fill these sandbags, 

making walls like locks out of memory blocks,

now stacked all around I'm learning how to survive this town,

descending on the metro, no other choice, drag me down into the smell where they only offer rags, a place with all the other's, lifeless and gagged... 

raising my fist taking off my make-up, that fraudulent fake-up, i'm a city girl now so I guess I'll have to adjust... But I don't know if I want to be, am I really going to let this place become me, please los angeles don't drag me down with all those plastered plastic frowns, and the trekky corner clowns:please don't follow me home today, please don't let this place brake me... if your not helping you're hurting...