I can't stand the way those kids make fun of me,
Like I can't get a job so I work here.
I don't ever make fun of them for wearing preppy clothes,
But they make fun of me for wearing boots
With overalls sometimes.
And it does hurt my feelings a little,
But of course I just frown,
Cause I'm a man and men don't cry.
Though I will admit that when I stay here late
To clean the cafeteria at night,
I sometimes stop in the middle of the hall,
And I remember:

I used to go to school here,
And I used to make fun of the janitor,
And now I'm him.

And it's tonight that I'm standing here for the last time,
Because I'm too old to do this anymore.
I hate this job, but I've held it
For thirty years now without a break.
And I only got a single card,
From the principle,
And it didn't say anything except "thank you."
So I'm taking this last chance to look down these halls and imagine
All my friends and I walking through them on a sunny afternoon
Of my senior year,
And talking about all our big dreams.
All our big dreams turned out to be nothings,
And sunny afternoons became these lonely shifts at night.
But now I guess they're finally over,
And it's safe to say I'm through with everything.
I'll dream no more of anything or anyone for me,
And I won't be disappointed.
I don't remember what it was like when my future slipped away,
But I know what it's like to walk away from my past,
Cause I'm doing it tonight.

I wheel my mop away into the closet
And look at the red exit lights one last time.
"Farewell," I whisper to the lockers in the hall,
and to the water fountains in between them,
and to every little tile I've come to hate.
I don't know where my youth went,
But I know where I'm going now,
And trust me, it's not home.