They call it the morning rush hour;

is it any wonder why folks get so sour?

There they sit, just bumper to bumper;

how many today will just lose their temper?

There used to be only one car in the driveway;

times sure have changed, hardly any leeway.

So many places to go, so many cars ya know;

too much traffic, it's just the status quo.

We've got commuters, dawdlers and joyriders too;

there's the road construction, a lot of boohoo.

You can see the frustration in many a driver;

the stress is too much, they turn into a weaver.

When kids are back in school the traffic gets worse;

let's hope that no one winds up in a hearse.

Sooner or later the kids are out of school;

well-deserved vacations, let's go to Liverpool.

They call it the evening rush hour;

is it any wonder why folks get so sour?

There they are, wasting gas and precious time;

heading somewhere, sometime, what a paradigm.