I see him everyday
Riding on the bus.
His head down
His long frown
Poor Gloomy Gus.
Everyone who tries
To talk to him
To meet his eyes,
Only gets pushed away.
Poor gloomy Gus.
I'd give him a piece of candy,
But he'd slap it from my hand,
If only his mother had held him,
I wish he could understand,
We all just want him to smile
And sing, and enjoy everything.
But, poor gloomy Gus,
Just sits on the bus,
Feeding his hate
And starving his love.
Poor, poor,
Gloomy Gus.