What lies at the end

Of this long and lonesome road?

For me, Finch Station

 

False prophets fed you

Lies, false hope, it was supposed

To come at 8:10.

 

The perennial

Struggle, for those red thrones the

Elusive bus seat.

 

I am in the dark

Belly of the beast. It moves

Slow, the TTC.

 

 Driver, time lord, late

Or early, with one bathroom

Break, he seals your doom.