Give me less

The roar of the wheels on rails juxtaposed with the idiocy streaming from mouths
Was it
For the morning, coffee already going cold.
There was a shuffle in my seat, a man in a suit stood and turned, a blonde woman with a foreign accent
Talked about showing her body to
A stranger.
This is the way people live,
Alive,
Breathing,
Dying,
Being not remembered and never sung,
Because sitting on a train to Fuckville is somehow more redeeming than wasting time in comfort.