A bus in a foreign city sets my scene of late
On board a malfunctioning unit, broken just the same
Away, as the sun sinks slowly, lights up the canals
The daze of a constant movement, and pushing, pushing further, pushing on
And eyes and faces, nervous tics and habits, lover’s quarrels and fake smiles
Appear the same, entire different places, same disguises,
Different town
And running forward, running backward, running through
Our words that only hold a lying truth
A million buses with identical locations
A life in spite of you
Was it.. was it you who told me? “never settle down”
And I, I followed faithfully, I run from solid ground
This life.. is that what you call it? My constant fever pitch
Seems like these three story buildings are taller than the demons in my dreams
And I am groping, reaching for an answer, hurtling forward through this town, or city, rather, I guess that’s what they call it, everywhere is solid
ground
And running forward…
And I, I am running from it, heart pinned to the sky
In flight, passing landmarks fading, leave the dust behind
And hide, fleeing from your spirit
Wheels hit ground
Push right, plaster on a smile,
And push it, push it further, push it down