text: Takes a dried up ball-point, lemon juice and water
  Keeps a diary invisibly
  In the kitchen corner of a basement bachelor suite
  Theres a certain search for certainty you know well never see
  Her hands touch her childhood home in photos that she took
  Its one more omission from a high school history book
  How whole lives get knifed and pushed aside
  To whom it may concern 
  Theres a bus thats leaving half an hour from now 
  It wont take her where she really wants to go 
  So she sits there with her luggage at her side 
  In the empty stations of our empty lives
  Take a broken bottle, take a rafter beam, or
  Take a needle and a tarnished spoon
  Or just words to kill off one more unheard statement
  Of another dying afternoon, she says shes leaving soon
  So, so long to ten-hour shifts and faking sympathies
  Farewell to piles of bills, unpaid utilities
  All rolled up and unfurled like a flag, wake up and pack your bag
  To whom it may concern 
  Theres a bus thats leaving half an hour from now 
  It wont take her where she really wants to go 
  So she sits there with her luggage at her side 
  Leaving empty stations leaving empty lives