THE BUS RIDE HOME:

Reflecting On One Gray, September Day:

Welcome to the Great White North, both strong and free,
Tell me Ms. DiFranco, do you still want to move here
To escape from the powers that be?
'Cause down on de Maisonneuve the sounds of shots rang out,
We’re just of free here to buy weapons to scream to shout.

Hey, Coupeland, won't you come take a look,
Will these kids live and die living like those in your book?
Hey, Michael, your Canada theory doesn’t stand,
Because there’s no less fear in our native land.

There’s no explanation that quite explains the root,
Of why some folks transform pain to terror and then begin to shoot.

Guns flood the streets of Toronto, girls die on boxing day;
Young men terrorize students, with weapons both legal and paid,
And Bill’s in Japan, feeling this pain all alone,
While I ride past the school, everyday on my way home.

They used to ask, where you when Kennedy was shot,
Or when man landed on the moon?
Then, where were you on 9/11 when the war began again so soon?
And for the next day, for the next week, it’s all that’s on our minds,
Where were you when Dawson became a word synonymous with Columbine?

We search for some explanation but still we’re at a loss,
And the best we can do now is to ask,
How many lives will this one cost?