Dog Gone Commute To Nowhere
Perhaps we should all drive Wiener Mobiles?
Man’s rolling around at his wurst.
We ain’t cuttin’ the mustard ignorin’ red lights.
Play’n ketchup as rat racing cursed.
So pull out the Glocks and roll back the clocks,
Bang-bang! Headin’ into dark fall.
As over horizon sun down is surmisin’
traffic-jammed-damned are on their last call.
(It’s a cell out where sanity stalls.)