What's the Hurry
What’s the Hurry?
Why it’s called “Rush Hour” surely beats me
‘Cause there won ’t be any rushing for an hour or three
There’s a solid mass of steel from ramp to overpass
With thousands of vehicles wasting gallons of gas
We’re trapped like rats in our metal cocoons
Moving ten feet since half past noon
My mood varies when I’m forced to idle
From clinical depression to suicidal
In front of me there’s a truck loaded with cattle
Going who knows where, perhaps to Seattle
In all this hot air, by the time they get there
Those cows are likely to be medium rare
To my left, there’s a truck from United Van Lines
Moving someone’s furniture, brand new and fine
Across the country over deserts and peaks
By the time of arrival, they’ll be antiques
To my right is a hearse carrying a coffin
The driver is blowing his horn quite often
Hard to figure why he needs to worry
‘Cause his passenger isn’t in much of a hurry
Through my real view mirror, there’s an armored truck
The driver no doubt hauling millions of bucks
If he doesn’t reach the bank while he’s still alive
It’s likely those tens will be worth only five
So what do you do if you want to make time?
While you’re still a young person in your prime
All you must do is exit your garage door
On a Sunday morning between three and four
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