I hear a series of loud buses taking people across a bridge.
Taking people home.
Taking people to work.

People I don't know.
People I won't ever know.

Shrugging off the tired.

Riding the bus again.


Until the Ghostman screams.

He screams a ****** hellish sound.
And all the buses suddenly break down.
And all the people quickly file off.
And huddle together in fear.
Touching each other for the first time.
Holding each other like newborns.
Forgetting the past, and the future.

People I will never touch.

They calm down and start to talk.
What was that? Who are you?
What am I? Where are we?

Questions I will always ask.

They get back on the buses and go about their days.

They get off at their stops and part ways.

But the Ghostman knows...

He knows they will never forget...

Those people they were with...

When he sang his same old song.


A song I will always be singing:

I am the Ghostman can't you see?
Floating around so (s)carelessly
Get off your buses and settle on down
Everybody's coming from a different part of town
And everybody's going to end up the same way
A ghost like me with nothing else to say,
But "GET OFF YOUR ******* CELL PHONES, LOOK YOUR NEIGHBOR IN THE EYE AND SAY I LOVE YOU, YOU DISSOCIATIVE LITTLE *****."

The End