9-3-12.

Staring straight in front of me

The bus stops at the stop

We all sway as this man gets on

He’s gynormous.

Staring straight in front of me

He struggles he’s ready to drop

And yes he plonks down next to me

This is my curse.

There’s always one

And why is it they sit next to me

Or it’s the next door’s music flowing free.

There’s always one

It’s the gold brawly straight in the face

Or it’s the mad cow invading my space.