Waiting for das Autobus

When trying to find/ ride a bus here, I often sing the Cotton Eye Joe to myself:

Where did you come from?
Where did you go?
Where did you come from Bus Driver Joe?

The lyrics actually make much more sense in this context than in any other, especially kicking your heels up with a wheel of dancers on a floor. The buses run on time. But the stops seem to hide around corners and under trees.