Bus stop

On the station my fate sorts out
On a bus stop
I think about my last travel
After which I wont be here anymore
On the station bottles crack
There I smoke cigarettes
I think about going for a bus
Nearby, for my last travel
Maybe digital media survives
Maybe survives few hundered years
Lives through nuclear war
Floods and tornados
And it all will end
My emotional problems
My psychosis will stop
I'll dissapear