The squeal of brakes, the hiss and squeak of doors, and it shudders to a stop. With a hustle and a bustle the passengers shuffle off. The bus breathes out and at last – there's some leg space. But who is getting on now? Is she looking at me? And who's that? Oh no, it's him. Quick, look away … pretend you haven't seen him. Hey, watch it with that huge bag! Now she's coming towards me. But so is he. Who is going to get there first? What should I do? Keep my head down? Make room on the seat next to me, or look out the window? Oh, er … hello.
I've taken a few strange journeys on buses. Who hasn't? I once took a journey across Croatia with four hungry goats and their owners. I've been on a bus with a dozen nuns who continually fed me cheese and sausage. I've witnessed scary violence and steamy sex on inner city night services, once on the same service (but that wasn't with the nuns). I've sat motionless with someone shooting up just a foot away. And I've even shared a seat with an owl.
Many a song, I'll bet, has begun on the back of a bus ticket. Buses run like the remorseless tick-tock of time. You can't speed them up or slow them down. You know they'll come, but you don't really know when. They are often banal, but can regularly rev up a surprise. Buses are the unstoppable loads of life. They carry private thoughts – of opportunity, fantasy, conversation, love, escape, hope, loss and recycled boredom. They are the start and stop of a city heartbeat. Buses are miniature capsules of society where anyone can get on and off at any time.
Buses are quite a specific subject for song, but nominations can cover the anticipation of travelling, waiting at the bus-stop, or something that happens along the way. And they are local, national, international. They are democratic, random and universal. From Shillibeer's horsedrawn 1820s omnibus to steam buses, Greyhound coaches to London reds, singles to double deckers, luxury winnebagos to clapped out bangers, they can really rev up the imagination of those riding inside.
They might be political battle buses, or bring busloads of tourists or pilgrims. They can cross metropolises, one-horse towns, countryside schools, mountains, deserts and windswept crossroads. They can traverse tiny bridges or vast continents, from India to China, the US to South America. A bus journey can be like the structure of a song itself, with steady elements all the way through and occasional riffs hopping on and off to alight at any key moment. So get on this bus with your song nominations and let's enjoy the ride. Please put in your suggestions by 11pm GMT on Monday 6 January and I'll present some journey highlights later next week.
To increase the likelihood of your nomination being considered for the final list, please:
• Tell us why it's a worthy contender.
• Quote lyrics if helpful, but for copyright reasons no more than a third of a song's words.
• Provide a link to the song. We prefer Muzu or YouTube, but Spotify, SoundCloud or Grooveshark are fine, too.
• Listen to others people's suggestions and add yours to a collaborative Spotify playlist.
• If you can have a good theme for Readers Recommend, or if you'd like to volunteer to compile a playlist, please email peter.kimpton@theguardian.com.
• There's a wealth of data on RR, including the songs that are "zedded", at the Marconium. It also tells you the meaning of "zedded", "donds" and other strange words used by RR regulars.
• Many RR regulars also congregate at the 'Spill blog.
