Waiting For the Bus

My name is Gary Tyler, Louisiana-born
 Shadow of the poplar tree on fields all ripe with corn
 Sixteen years I counted on the rising of the sun
 I'm just waiting for the bus to take me home
 Of all the Disunited States divided black and white
 Louisiana taught me how to think and how to fight
 Sixty of us kids aboard the number 91
 I'm just waiting for the bus to take me home
 Bus was barely moving we were set upon and stopped
 Watched 200 white boys throwing bottles, cans and rocks
 Trapped and scared together there was nowhere we could run
 I'm just waiting for the bus to take me home
 Boy outside the bus, an automatic in his hand
 We heard a single shot and then we all just hit the ground
 I never pulled a trigger and I never held a gun
 I'm just waiting for the bus to take me home
 White boy lay there bleeding cops they searched the bus
 Never found a thing to say that it was one of us
 Took us down the station they were beating us for fun
 I'm just waiting for the bus to take me home
 Gun produced from nowhere pinned the crime on me
 A lynchmob for a jury meant they'd never set me free
 Thirty years in prison for a crime I haven't done
 I'm just waiting for the bus to take me home
 Waiting here the world has turned a thousand times or more
 Stranded like the man who never knew they'd stopped the war
 Waiting for the pardon but the pardon never comes
 I'm just waiting for the bus to take me home.