The Never-Ending Present

This waiting here for a bus
 Is better than its coming
 Every day it always does
 I daydream or kick some dirt
 Or throw a rock or check my watch
 Or catch my reflection
 And it barely makes an impression
 
 On the never-ending present
 ♪
 This working from the inside out
 This stepping to the easel
 Is going to run you into results
 And then there's the materials
 Do you see a world beyond your shoes
 Reflected in the polish?
 And see some images of truth
 Beautifully demolished?
 
 And it barely makes an impression
 ♪
 On the never-ending present
 ♪
 Steel yourself against the cold
 Or look for semi-precious shade
 When the bus crests that hill
 Love and hate are just the same
 Watching as the money drops
 Every day it always does
 Maybe there's a song in here?
 No, and in fact, there never was
 Nothing but a little expression
 
 From the never-ending present
 
 Just me doing my impression
 
 Of the never-ending present