Until the nasal request
That cuts through even headphones
-
We all dig through bags bad pockets
In search of justification
To sleep in the moving carriages
-
All eyes get drawn to the too quick
Shuffle and tap against the doors
That won't open yet
-
Even slumberers pay attention
Some betting for capture
And others escape
-
We roll in, the squeal of tires
Slowly, too slowly the doors part
The quick slip of escape
-
A collective sigh
No matter the opinion
The event is over and sleep is lulled back
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