August Bank Holiday
The M5 crawled to Taunton Deane
More traffic miles than ever seen
A heat haze shimmers overhead
The tarmac monster, octane fed
A helicopter circles round
To see what's happening on the ground
And sends a message back to base
Don't travel near this awful place
The DJ on the radio
Says "Don't go there it's really slow"
And plays another mindless jingle
Followed by a Spice Girls single.
Tempers flare as brake lights flicker
Smog and fumes are getting thicker
It's driving me around the bend
God, will this traffic ever end?
A little further up the road
We find out why the traffic slowed
A million cones direct the flow
But where's the workers there's no show
I wish they could explain the reason
Why they pick the height of season
Digging roads on holidays
Is tantamount to treason.