This may be the last bus I step off as I bid farewell to a long run
We used to laugh when our legs, they braced the sand
Turning up the songs when I went two decades deep
I longed for stolen pages and harnessed back
Floating like tumbleweed across the tar
With an eagerness to know if I could raise myself from inaction
My brothers told me that we're all the same
Less alive these days, honing complacency
Unable to see the time we cast away
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