I was sitting on a concrete bench hurting from the pain,
That was caused to me by a bumble bee, confused by all the rain,
That hit the town where I was staying (it hit the city like a chump).
I guess the rain drove the bee insane and it stung me on the rump.
I sat a while counting cars, thinking about that bee,
When a group of religious heretics began to question me.
'Do you have a purpose son, or have you sold your soul?'
I said 'I can't really say for certain, do you think I should take a poll.'

My friendly fathers soon departed, leaving me alone.
I decided since the pain was worse, I probably should go home.
But where to go? And who to see? It all seemed such a waste.
Yet to me, better that than the bee; I left with a little haste.
I came upon a crystal fountain; I passed a golden fence.
I almost went into a storefront that was guaranteeing innocence.
I kept on walking tired and slow; I had worn out both my shoes.
So when this lady said, 'come in and rest your feet,' you know I could not refuse.

I walked inside the tiny room. I said, 'Is this the place?'
She smiled and said 'This aint the bedroom honey…you got such a pretty face.'
It was then that I realized I had no chance for rest.
When I told her no, and that I had to go she said, 'Well shit, I should've guessed.'
I left her place, in some disgrace. I knew that I'd been had
It didn't seem to phase me none, no I kinda think I was glad.
Cause every time you wine and dine you lose a little of your soul,
But gain a little maturity from giving up control.
I kept on walking for miles on end. My well was running dry,
When I saw a village in the distance. As I got closer I read the sign;
It said, 'Only drifters welcome here. If you aint, don't even think about coming around.'
I wiped the sweat, in sweet relief, and said, 'This is my kinda town!'