Everyday it’s the same old maddening thing,
On the road all the cars aren’t even crawling.
This freeway has become a big parking lot,
I wish I was able to just drive 55, but I’m not.
We are all creeping along, one irritated herd,
A lady in a green Mazda just shot me the bird.
I’m just trying my hardest to get to work,
And, SUDDENLY, I get cut off by some jerk.
Red brake lights are all that I can see,
Gas fumes are causing me such misery.
Moving along at a blistering 0 miles an hour,
Instantly makes my sweet disposition sour.
Oh brutha, I’ve got the brake light blues,
Better call the boss and give him the news.
Looks like I’m gonna be late again,
This traffic makes me want to sin.
I’m in a traffic jam, man.
carbonated joy 