The bus roared on. I was going home in October. Everybody goes home in October.
Desolation, desolation, I owe so much to desolation.
I didn't know what to say. I felt like crying, Goddammit everybody in the world wants an explanation for your acts and for your very being.
They spent all week saving pennies and went out Saturdays to spend fifty bucks in three hours.
To think that so much comes to so little, to think that life is really short.
This is the story of America. Everybody's doing what they think they're supposed to do.