No transfer

"If I could hit rewind," Jackie said,
"I'd like to see what it'd be like
to take a different road that didn't
wind up in a dull suburban life.

'Cause we've got so much, still know I'm losing
it always hits me hardest when traffic's not moving."
Sink holes in bus seats from the days set on repeat
chew my leg out from the snare
and limp away I don't know where.

But these dreams and diatribes stay at the park and ride,
'cause we still queue up outside.
That's the way it is the way that we exist.

This route's not going away.