On this bus to the end of the world...

I fell asleep again with landscape floating across the window.
It felt like it had been years on this journey down.
Down to where life stops looking so familiar and starts to look like what you imagined it would be. What they told you it would be.
Where you always hoped you would be. The grass on the other side.
A place you feel as if you've been before. A long time ago.
Where problems and troubles are just someones philosophy about society.
A place that belongs to us all. A place that no one man could own.
Where the king is a dreamer who holds his throne in his hand.
A place with sea at it's edge and the cool breeze at it's back.
With my house on the end of the street and yours next to mine.
I hope we grow old and see the places they sang to us when we were young.
The places baptized with the stories we know.
The stories they told us to make us lust for serenity and love.
My eyelids heavy now but my body restless on this bus to the end of the world.
Sleep steals my consciousness again.
Sleep welcomes me like a lost son.