People always leave,
Like buses we come and go
We move on to the next stop
Determined by society.

The briefest exchange leaving a mark on us
Will we travel to that place again?
See the same sights on our travels
Or are we destined to finish our route alone
empty

Maybe we will cross paths again,
Number 7 and number 24
Until then we will travel aimlessly
To stops in which are pre-destinate