text: Depot, depot, what am I doing here?
  Depot, depot, what am I doing here?
  I aint coming, I aint going
  My confusion is showing
  And outside the midnight wind is blowing Sixth Avenue
  Im gonna paint myself blue
  At the depot
  I watch the taxis pull up and idle
  I cant claim title
  To a single memory
  You offered me a key
  Cause opportunity dont knock
  Has no tongue as you cannot talk
  Youre gonna shuffle when you walk
  At the depot
  This peeping Tom needs a peephole
  And an up-tempo song to move me along
  When I find this depot, baby
  Im on a roll just like a pool ball, baby
  Im gonna be there at the roll call maybe
  At the depot
  Outside the midnight wind is blowing Sixth Avenue
  Ah, tell me what is a poor boy to do?
  At the depot
  Im on a roll just like a pool ball, baby
  Im gonna be there at the roll call maybe
  At the depot
  Depot