Driving home today,
Pontefract is where I've been.
Via the M1 at Leeds
Onto the M18.
Vertical hard rain,
Coming down without pause,
Falling faster to the floor
Than a pair of whores drawers
Around Doncaster,
Onto the A1 south,
Squeezing a carton of juice
Through straw into my mouth
The rain is now mixed,
With larger flakes of snow,
I'm hoping it'll soon stop, 'cause
I've got Eighty miles to go
A terrible crash,
On the Northbound carriage,
Five cars one van, they're mangled
Their metal intermarried
Static meander,
Curls the motorway snake,
Further, into the distance
Someone's getting home late.
Pity the driver,
In the far distant view.
Glad it's one of those days,
When the last driver isn't you
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