The bus stopped in Brandon, miles from IthacanAt the coffeeshop to pour the people outnTo drink all the coffee read through the papersnAbout the famous coming outnnThe couple two rows up from the left didn't movenAs I passed they just lay sleeping innTo one another the way birds clusternTogether when facing windnnOh, and she was like a cameranAnd he a B filmnBoth pretty faced, but hardnFrom smoking too muchnAnd waiting too longnAnd from all the things that life does to break your heartnI told you so - don't say I didn't tell you sonnI listened to them all the way westboundnWnder gold blankets and blue fieldsnWith our sally ann jackets, pillows and backpacksnshe turned into him like a shieldnFrom the story of Santa Claus,nDrunk, stuck in the chimneynTo the deer they lost making them flynAnd how B.B. King rode the busnTo his gig because he was brokenAnd how sometimes its ok to crynnAnd I swear it rains there all the time, she saysnFirst thing we'll find a room and keep drynOh, we'll find a bed and put us in itnAnd it will feel like home in no timenOh, well, if there is not much more than thisnThen i'd like to share it with you.nWith your hundred dollars nAnd my hundred dollarsnI'm sure, sure, sure that we'll pull throughnI told you so, nDon't say I didn't tell you sonWell, i told you so, like i had to go