Camping in the passing lane

We're headed down to Grandma's

Driving on the interstate.

We were about our business,

Running thirty minutes late.

Then we caught up to you,

You're driving like you never knew

there were other cars on the road,

It's time to get a clue.

You were passing trucks and quit.

I guess you just got bored with it.

Maybe you just got distracted,

Or maybe you're semi truck attracted.

I don't know what makes you,

okay with riding next to,

trucks that ride really slow.

I think you like impeding flow.

There's clear road ahead of you,

So why are you still in front of me?

Camping in the fast lane

What is this supposed to be?

I just wanna get where I'm going

I see you just wanna go slow

It's cool, but there's a lane for that,

It's the one on the right!

Please just pull ahead some,

You can even slow down some,

Just please change lanes,

I'm begging you!

I'm losing my self-control,

Grandma's making casserole

I don't want to road rage

Cause you're doing old age

Grandma said don't get there late,

Or I'll get the tiny plate,

Camping is failure to yield

I know it seems far afield.

But take a look behind you

Those aren't your biggest fans there,

In that long line a mile or two.

But there's nothing they can do.

They're flashing their lights.

They're honking their horns.

You're completely oblivious.

You're their crown of thorns!

Where's a cop when you need one?