Slow lane continued by Ronda

My names Ronda look out

Please do not swerve in front of me, you small little child

I could have gone, but nooooooo, you had to be a dick

I hate the folks who pull out and won’t pick up speed

If you mush me, mush me, mush me, I won’t have to go to the doctor

What are you doing?! Breathe

What the freaking hell!

I don’t know what’s with all the trucks

I hate people. I hate all people.

I hate people without Florida tags, but I hate people with a Florida tag most

Thank you for getting in the slow lane, because you were going slow, like a cow

Oh dear, for the love — Mother of pearl

I am here — and I missed the goddamn turn

The road is a chorus of honks and sighs

I’m riding the edge between patience and a warning sign

If I could bottle the traffic haze, I’d pour it out tonight

But all I’ve got are these rants and red lights

Breathe in, scream out, let the engine hum

Drive the minutes, dial the frustration to a calm

The rearview sighs, the windshield glare, a moving mural of regret

Radio chatter gnaws at sanity, on this rubbery, yellow-belted set

Horn echoes like a stubborn drum, a rhythm of the gridlock beat

I’ll pick up courage from the coffee cup, and keep my pace discreet

I hate people. I hate all people.

I hate people without Florida tags, but I hate people with a Florida tag most

Thank you for getting in the slow lane, because you were going slow, like a cow

Blinking signs, a stray mile—my playlist takes a turn

I’m counting every sigh and sighing every turn I learn

If patience is a muscle, mine’s been stretched to the tether

But I’ll ride this groove until the sunset comes together

There must be a lane for the legends of the road

Where kindness hums and tempers slow

Until that day, I’ll ghost through green and red

With a whistle of wind and a knotted thread

Please do not swerve in front of me, you small little child

I could have gone, but nooooooo, you had to be a dick

I hate the architecture of this jammed-up block

But I’ll breathe, I’ll ride, I’ll laugh at the clock

I hate people. I hate all people.

I hate people without Florida tags, but I hate people with a Florida tag most

Thank you for getting in the slow lane, because you were going slow, like a cow

Oh dear, for the love — Mother of pearl

I am here — and I missed the goddamn turn

Maybe tomorrow the road will