(Verse 1) The ride home started quiet Arizona fading in the dust I found a seat beside the window Thinking mostly about the months Then somewhere near departure She climbed aboard alone Took the seat beside me And suddenly I wasn't We talked about the weather Talked about where we'd been Talked about music, movies And everything in between (Chorus) She was a teacher I was fourteen Neither one of us knew What the other one meant She saw somebody older I thought she understood Funny how assumptions Can make a story good (Verse 2) The miles rolled underneath us Like they always seemed to do One conversation turned to ten Then ten turned into two days through She laughed at all my stories I laughed at all of hers And somewhere in the middle The line started to blur Not because we planned it Not because we tried Just two strangers on a Greyhound ride (Chorus) She was a teacher I was fourteen Neither one of us knew What the other one meant She saw somebody older I thought she understood Funny how assumptions Can make a story good (Bridge) Then somehow it came up A question about school She stopped and stared a second Like she thought I'd played the fool "Wait..." "You're how old?" And I still remember laughing At the look upon her face (Verse 3) The next day felt a little strange But neither one ran away We just kept talking like before And watched America go by Then St. Louis came too quickly Like endings always do She grabbed her bag Smiled and shook her head Like she still couldn't believe it was true (Final Chorus) She was a teacher I was fourteen Neither one of us knew What the other one meant Some people stay forever Some are passing through But every now and then A stranger leaves a memory That stays with you (Outro) The bus rolled east She got off in St. Louis And I never saw her again
