Going through life, on cruise control,
The 6-lane highway, demands a heavy toll.
You are unconscious, on autopilot, you stop noticing stuff,
Can't stop and smell roses, or you'll be fined sure enough.
Speed and more speed, the destination looms ahead,
If you get distracted by the dew, you'll most likely be dead.
Your vision gets narrowed, only the adjacent cars matter,
When you're comfortably cruising, there's no drive to be better.
Imagine instead, you're stuck in a jam,
Life's at a crossroad, and a door did slam.
You are running low on fuel, your alertness sky high,
Frantically searching for the next exit, can't remain stuck and die.
There's no coming to consciousness, sans some misery and pain,
To get roused from the slumber, often requires a strong rain.
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