It's 5:00 P.M. on a weekday, friend
There's one of me and two million of them
The whistle blows and the factories close
There's a million more commuters on the access roads
The brake lights flash--there's an RV crashed
I'm in the passing lane going nowhere fast
The traffic crawls and the engine stalls
I'm stuck on the edge of the urban sprawl
Warren Zevon
