I watch from a bus as the world goes by:
So many lives, so many souls, so many sighs.
The morning drudgery - the silent rush -
The selfish crowd and the unspoken crush.
Where is it that we are really going?
Toward a better life without knowing -
Or toward a life carrying chains,
As we lose the colours in the rains?
Give us this day our daily slave,
And all those trinkets that we crave;
Forgive us now for our temptations,
In a hope that we will one day reach redemption.
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