Traffic is ripping from the left and the right while a man hoofs it to work in the dawn's early light

With not enough money to buy a ride to the job, the man walks the highway, shod in the worn clothes of a slob

He must deftly dodge across double lanes - this causes startled observers to think "Man, that's insane"

Counting his blessings that he's made it safely so far, he shakes loose a smoke for some nicotine laced tar

For a while he's marooned on the thin median strip, so he savors some drags from a butt between his lips

Then ponders what has become the lot of his life - "Have I ever known solace, or just struggle and strife?"

With a smoky euphoria now teasing his brain, he has taken to an expression that might just explain

"Pick your poison," the man, after each ignition, will say, "The end will come - but hopefully not today."