It's about two hours after the sun ascended
You've whistled through Michoud and Bullard heading west
Imagined that fresh soothing brew of coffee as you contemplate stopping at Starbucks
Even relished the thought of a delicious frittata
Gleaming in smiles you coast towards the Central Business District
And there you see it, the same ole hermetic highway leading up to the Highrise
That lambent dream snatched away from you, morning after morning
Scores of cars tucked bashfully against lane-hopping drivers
And 18 wheelers rudely farting motor fumes in the heavy-eyed face of work-bound drivers
It's definitely gonna be a long day
Wishing you could evanesce to your cubicle defies all realities of life
In disconsolate disbelief,
there has been a breakdown on the Highrise I-10W
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