As the bright clubs flush out the bright young things
On to the quieting bunch on the night bus
Quite what I love about the night bus
Is beside me sometimes when that guy comes up

You think the future is not what it used to be
These are the good old daze just you wait and see

As painted nails tapped rhymes
On protected screens
Jaded eyes glancing at techno streams
The trainee nurses
And the keen on make-up
A baby wails mainly for space and a meal
Greying hair recedes and the pace of life speeds
Could be 8 or 3 on the 83

You think the future is not what it used to be
These are the good old daze just you wait and see

Stale breath battles what vapes make sweet
Snazzle of the headphone on a gamer in grief
Anger-ridden teens too scared to make a scene
Conveyor belt preening of
Layered hair that plainly needs seeing to
White dust drugs and sights to shock
Nice loving mums on the night bus
Overnight bus club with the high street under
Sky that is done fighting this rock

You think the future is not what it used to be
These are the good old daze just you wait and see

Surprised by a look
From some eyes that are up
Before their iPhone summons them
And I'm left looking
At eyes that shrug
Then that type of look
Where eyes touch once
She sizes me up
And then denies the moment
With the eyes looking off
A tight blush comes
And I fight with love
I've got a right flush up
But I try to shrug
Because the night bus home
Is like a night bus club
I guide my shookness
Out to the night that's stuck
Between night and sun
The lighthouse is guiding our eyes
To signs like chameleon, lies and change

Outside an eternal glinting picture of
Serpentine, glimmering rivers of piss

As the bright clubs flush out
The bright young things
Onto the quieting bunch
On the night bus