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As Jesus was sleeping behind a rock
The bus station was blooming
The passengers standing in a snaked line
My backpack stuffed with jeans and socks
Trying my best to look unassuming
There are no seats, we are all assigned
Five hours later I arrive home
I rush to my room and I want to sing
I lay down, I rest my head, I smile
On my childhood bed, I lie alone
End of trial