Your Very Own Bus

On November 5, 2004, I wrote in my diary:

Life is like riding on your very own bus: people get on, people get off, sometimes they get back on every day at the same time and sometimes you never see them again, and the bus never stops, endlessly riding into the sunset.

About ten years later it became Dynaxiom 2239, then a song:

Now the ChatGPT version:

"Write a song with the title Your Very Own Bus":

Your very own bus, painted in shades of dreams
Carry you away, through the starry streams
To places undiscovered, where the night meets the day
Your very own bus will take you far away.

Again, so trite sans the pathos I originally had because it doesn't know that life has pathos.

"Write a song where a bus rides into the sunset":

On a city street
where the people all rush
I dream of a bus, taking me, taking us
To a place where the sun meets the horizon so grand
On a journey to a world that's not in this land.

With an edit, it has some interesting possibilities, such as a "rapture" bus:

On a city street
where the people rush
I dream of a bus taking us up
To a place where the sun meets the horizon grand
On a journey to a world that's not in this land.