A Bus To Kyoto

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All I wanted was to catch a bus to Kyoto
But I was dropped off down the street
It came to me then that the bus never left the station.

I'm sorry, Ben, but goodbyes aren't always
White and clean and everything you wish for.
They're every color of the rainbow.

Each tone swirls around my head as I recall
We bid farewell to my mother bathed in pink
Asleep in her favorite color.

I can only hope for the lady down the street
That she loved yellow like the sun
And the lush greens of summer grass.

"What a great day to be alive,"
Tells one generation to his successor,
While the old man downtown wishes for death.

"Aren't you cold?" She asks me.
I forgot I was outside, at the scene of the crime.
I want to go home.

At the end of it all, the Earth is our owner.
Where we go until she claims us is ours.
You can find me on a bus to Kyoto.

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