Tip of the hat
Luxury ridden bus stop
Too many blinks of my eyes
Misery amongst the peasants
The bus sweet smelly bus
My home
Holy shoes and a bottle of ***
How quaint to look up the grassy hillside
A quick peek at the wealthy
My eyes blinked too many times
They aren’t allowed on this bus
It’s the bus where angels fly
where real people cry
How quaint