Forty miles from the city Sitting in traffic isn't fun
Crucifix stabbed in soil, to a father from a son
There's ghosts on the highway I claim
Dancing on the medians Slamming breaks
I'm forty miles from the city and this is the shit that's in my brain,
I need a whim Something I can get caught up in
I've got to get down to something If I could sacrifice a little bit,
I will Some of us are drinking coffee,
But how the hell could you read a paper Probably headlines of fuel,
While the governments putting all the red tape down
Wake up, I just woke up
The revolution won't be televised, 'cause it's in the morning drive