Some people pray
that death is a cabaret
Other folks reckon
that life is an abattoir
On the same bus
we ride without reason
running with the sheep
wishing on a star

CH: Running with the sheep
searching together
hoping to find
sunnier weather
Running with the sheep
wishing on a star
A door's not a door
when it's still ajar

Next seat up
bought a lifetime ticket
Thinks that she's
of a better class
Won't find out
until the last door opens
she'll go to the same place
as the rest of us

Down the back
Old Mate quietly thinking
Understands what happens
at the door's final chime
He won't join
the stampede for the exit
What's the need to hurry
to the end of time?

Doors swing closed
Now the bus is empty
Turns around
back to where it came
On the way
hear the Driver laughing
Silly bloody idiots have
just themselves to blame