I get excited for another ride
On the bus of life we go
The limit of the view is my sight
The end of the road is death,
Or at least as far as i know

But the colors of the city dried out
They look faint, They're ugly and bold

But how old am i to think that
how many lies I've been told

Since when did my sight go bad
Since when I've lost all hope
Since when did the city go gray
Since when did the sun get old

The bus of life wont wait for me
but i have no reason to go

The colorful city stays bright
But i can't see anything, I can't let go