Day 27: Wheels on the Bus

The rain will lash

Markets crash

Dreams burn to the ground

In the flood

Face in the mud

But the wheels on the bus go 'round.

Gasp! A whore.

She's open for

Anyone around.

Noone sees

The Injuries.

And the wheels on the bus go 'round.

Colors aren't

For colouring now

They're the face with which you're found.

Children play

With hand grenades.

But the wheels of the bus go 'round

The pitied sighs,

Shallow eyes

Vanity astounds.

Clink the champagne glasses again.

The wheels on the bus go 'round.

Hope perhaps for

Better days.

Hands together

End the craze

No will to stop 

And save this town.

So the wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round.

The wheels on the bus go 'round.