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