The rising stench of gas and tar

People come from near and far

The oil stained lot beneath their feet 

Crowds assemble, vendors compete

The bus station is where they’ve come

The night it filled with engines’ hum

Departing buses leave the station

Traveling across the nation

Through the night over distant roads 

Each of them with burdened loads

All the buses are bound to break 

As all the people lay awake 

The bumpy roads make buses sway

Bodies are rolled every which way

Engines fail on a dusty lane

Why did they not take the plane?

No one ever has restful sleep

But at least the tickets were cheap.