I seek for the red bus driver
Do you know his whereabouts?
His height and feet grips my being
His voice sings way through my pain
Under the gay skies I lay in his arms
Listening to his songs and tales.


He returns home with the intoxicating scent of hard work,
With his muscular demeanor he throws his keys and grabs my waist
Have you seen the dark red bus driver
His long hair runs a maiden wild
His hands grows slowly down my spine
I sat in front close to his cuddles
The Afican passengers keep shouting
But as red as my heart beats,
He ignored their chatters
And makes love to me beneath their curious eyes.
Fellows I belong to the bus driver
I sway for him
Have you seen his trail?
Lead me to him for I am love sick.