Katzenmusik - Ghost Bus

Listen to the full song by clicking here.

This is the true story of how a man left his soul

and everything he knew

in the middle of the road

on a ghost bus

in the verdant Shropshire landscape

and nothing was ever the same again:

he could not come back from that.

First we gotta rewind a little bit.

It’s rare that people love their work. Their job.

Rarer than it should be

but that’s how it goes.

We’re chasing someone else’s dream

and that ain’t healthy for anyone.

But sometimes, sometimes things just click

your colleagues are beautiful souls,

or idiots, and hopefully both.

And what you do, what you do with your day

is help other people realise

they can achieve something.

Cause by now we all know that the tiniest victory

is a timeless victory.

That seeing a light click on behind someone’s eyes

illuminates the universe.

In cosmic time, that’s nothing.

In eternity, it is everything.

And that’s how it had been that day

And our man’s soul was full.

He was proud that he could help.

He was a librarian

and he had started to realise

the history and the power of that.

But then he had to come back.

He stepped onto the ghost bus.

And sat down. And listened to a comedy podcast.

Then his phone buzzed and jumped in his pocket

and as he slid the touchscreen to ‘answer call’

his heart sank to his boots

and he heard what had happened

and he did not know how to react.

The ghost bus stopped at the crossroads

But there was no devil there

to offer a deal

Or to suggest a game of cards

that would somehow bring

his brother back

Because there was no comeback.

Cause there is no comeback.

You don’t come back from that.

And all our man had known til then

seeped out and was lost

sunk into the squidgy tarmac

of a beautiful summer’s day.

But it was not beautiful

and nothing ever could be again.

Not in the same way as it was.

How do you come back from that?

How do you come back from that?

You cannot come back from that.

The ghost bus docked in the ghost station

and our man floated somehow home

the world around him fuzzy

confusing and not yet sad,

because he could not, would not,

and still never will,

accept that his brother had gone.

But the coffin said differently.

And he knew there was no coming back.

Years pass. And, what else should they do?

There’s no meaning left

when all you can do is stand

and watch yourself enervate

and feel your dreams dessicate.

Years just pass. Years just pass.

And our man knew one thing

and one thing only:

one day it would be his time too.

And there would be no coming back.

You cannot come back from that.

And he welcomed the fact.

And he looked forward to that.