Scrolling through Facebook, Born to Run in my ears,
My friends celebrate that they're in the clear;
The beginning of their career.

There's no Wendy running with me, but that's ok.
She'd only get in my way.

Picking my life I jumped the gun. In bed at one for a bus at half five;
"The body is dead but the spirit is alive!"

Trying to read my scripts on the bus, fighting open my eyes.
Won't be back for a while, so mother's last words; sweet goodbyes.

Stepping off the bus, my baggage is heavy; the suitcase too.
My body is worn, my jacket is torn, and there's rain in my shoe.

Wendy. Where are you?