On this bus, nobody mskes a fuss.
It's late, but we don't hate.
We fly up the interstate, all the trucks and cars pass by
All the trucks and cars
We go far.
Greyhound, there's not a sound.
We are on the way.
We will be there by the day.
There are few lights,
City lights, so pretty.
They only come every once in a while.
We have to travel a lot of miles.
We will get there in time. It is fine.
Nothing in sight
I am on a bus overnight.
Nothing around. Nothing to be found.
I look out the glass. Time does pass.
The lights are low.
They are not on. We'll be there by dawn.
The chairs recline, are beds. What is in the other passenger's heads
North, we do go.
We are on the interstate.
It's getting late.
There are other cars few.
The hours go by. We seem to fly.
I try to close my eyes.
Dark skies.

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