Parking Lot

I checked my phone again at a traffic light, no reason for it, driving home tonight, windshield

slightly fogged up, radios on low, flicking through the stations, traffic stop and go,

Freeways and city streets Turned into parking lots

Look around at drivers Deep in empty thoughts

Tesla, Chevy, Honda drivers Pulling out their hairs

Sitting stressed for hours Wasting out their years

Rubber-neckin' drivers, phantom tailbacks swelled.

Debris on the road ahead, roadworks gone to hell.

Flashing lights just up ahead, black ice on the ground.

A driver drifts out on his lane, I think I'll turn around.

Freeways and city streets turned into parking lots.

I look around at drivers, deep in empty thoughts.

Tesla, Chevy, Honda drivers pulling out their hairs.

Sitting stressed for hours, wasting out their years.

I'm getting home tonight.

True light glare in my eye Get out of this metal car

I've driven way too far I dream of private tunnels

Or one-man flying cars A massive plough to pave the way

To restaurants and bars I stay at home more than I'd like

Only drive when traffic's light So rare to see an open road

In consecutive green lights Freeways and city streets

Turned into parking lots I look around at drivers

Deep in empty thoughts Tesla, Chevy, Honda drivers

pulling out their hairs, sitting stressed for hours, wasting out their years, freeways

and city streets turned into parking lots, I look around at drivers, deep in empty thoughts,

Tesla, Chevy, Honda drivers, victims of puppeteers, driving round in circles, wasting out their

years.