Bus Lines - ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

Always the bus ride seems to last forever

Always the best of time we will always measure

Stand on the painted step, red face and sunburnt neck

Book open on your lap, page you soon forgot

Pull away your thumb, realize what you’ve done

Listen to a different song, march to a different drum

That never comes…

Clouds across the plain, bus up north again

Ghost within your head, the one you thought was dead

Gaze out at the glass into a distant past

Try to understand contradictions of the land

Try to conjure back, broken but still intact

Learning to become a marcher to a different drum

You’ll soon become one

And if it’s gone

It was the wrong one

Feels like something’s taking over us

Feels like torture, get me off the bus

Rain from a different day, roads are wet again

Stains from a different time, landmines deep inside

Do you remember how the bus broke down for several hours

Queue at the border check, guards breathing down our neck

Can’t wait for the rain to end, can’t wait to be home again

Never managed to keep track of that book and now it’s gone

Buy another one

How long

This go on

Feels like torture, get me off the bus

Feels like something’s taking over us

Feels like torture, get me off the bus

Feels like something’s taking over us

Always the bus ride seems to last forever

Always the best of time we will always treasure

How long

How long

How long

How long

Feels like something’s taking over us

Feels like something’s taking over us