Lyrics By: J.G. Argo ©2026 (Summery of song at bottom) [Spoken-Word Intro] "This song was born from a dream. I was at a camp, surrounded by buses full of people on their assigned paths… except mine. I watched authority try to control connection, tried to turn people into trophies. And I realized — I don’t need their path. I stepped off the bus, into the wilderness. This is my story, my truth, my freedom." [Verse 1] They said line up, there’s a place for everyone Name on a list, destination already done All the buses roaring, packed tight with belief But mine never showed, just the dust at my feet Said it started with a W, I still hear the sound A road with no rails, no holy lost-and-found Everybody moving, chanting what they’re told I stood in the quiet, watched the story get old [Pre-Chorus] I wasn’t late I wasn’t wrong There was never a seat for me all along [Chorus] There’s no bus for me I don’t ride on borrowed truth No map drawn by fear No cage dressed up as proof I walked off the page They tried to write for me If this is the wilderness Then this is where I’m free [Verse 2] Four of us standing on the edge of the scene Not loud, not many, but fully seen Two flames beside me, red hair, wild eyes Fire don’t beg permission, it just wants to rise One hand reached for me, then a voice pulled her back Old laws in his fingers, fear on his track Said “You don’t get to choose what your heart believes” But the one who stayed leaned in and breathed [Pre-Chorus] I didn’t fight I didn’t plead Truth doesn’t shout — it waits to be seen [Chorus] There’s no bus for me I don’t kneel for the crown That trades your breath For a heaven locked down I stayed with my soul When they pulled at the leash If this is the wilderness Then this is where I’m free [Bridge (half-time, shamanic)] They said I’d meet the famous, save their names Turn living, breathing people into games But I won’t fix what was never broken I won’t make a spectacle out of someone’s soul If your god needs trophies Mine needs truth If your faith needs fear I’m walking through [Chorus (Full Power / Anthemic)] There’s no bus for me I don’t follow the herd I don’t trade my voice For a secondhand word I burned the script They handed to me If this is the wilderness Then this is where I’m free [Outro / Chant Hook] No bus for me No chains in disguise No father in the sky Pulling love from my side No bus for me I stand where I am I didn’t lose my way —I became who I am --------------------------- Summery: I had this dream about going to camp. All the buses were there, packed with people, moving toward their assigned places — everyone except mine. My bus never came. I realized then that some systems just don’t have a seat for you. That’s not failure. That’s clarity. In the dream, there were four of us — small, a foundation, not the crowd. Two redheaded girls wanted to sit by me. One got taken away by her father. That part hit me: authority trying to control connection, trying to pull life and choice from people, even when it’s wrong. There was a counselor talking about bringing famous people to Christ — impressing the world, turning people into trophies. And I just watched. Because I’ve deconstructed all of that. I’ve seen the facts, I’ve walked past the illusions. This dream isn’t about loss. It’s about stepping off the bus they expect you to ride, walking into the wilderness, and finding freedom. It’s about understanding the systems, seeing them for what they are, and still holding space for your own truth and your own soul. That’s what’s being born in me — independence of thought, freedom to choose, and the courage to integrate the life I want, even when authority and tradition are right there in the house with me.
