freeway abstract

You always told me to stay off the freeway.
You said it was suicide.

Running feet and rushing wheels,
Rolling heads and breaking heels,
Whirring glass and breaking steel,
Stirring blood will make you feel:
CONCRETE!

You always told me to stay off the freeway.
You said it was suicide.

They cannot see reality:
CONCRETE!

The avalanche of iron arts,
Collection of their icy hearts:
CONCRETE!

Smell the gleaming rubber feet
Of their shiny metal steed,
At this insane, deadly speed:
CONCRETE!

They'll end the race when death will call
With stunning rage inside them all
A blinded mind against the wall,
The reaper, he is grim and tall:
CONCRETE!

You always told me to stay off the freeway.
You said it was suicide.

(2007)

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