I’ve made it home, the bus was fun
There were no slapping games
And though twas mostly DC folks
There was a fellow flame
The freestyle rap and songs and poems
Across the whole bus sound
The Bible is rehearsed to us
As wheels are turning round
The albatross is turned to soup
We get some food to go
I read a book then fall asleep
And then repeat that flow
Until we reach our final stop
With conference’ final end
I can’t contrive a better way
To go, my new year, spend