Transit

The merge from the turnpike was murder, but it's never a cinch
 It was Friday at five, and no one was giving an inch
 They squeezed and the edged and they glared
 Half of them clearly impaired by rage or exhaustion
 The rest were just touchy as hell
 Somewhere near Paterson everything slowed to a crawl
 The all-news station was thanking someone for the call
 It's a van from St. Agnes's choir
 There's a nun out there changing a tire
 By the time they got by her, tempers were out of control
 They all hit the gas in a dash for position
 Bobing and weaving and flashing their highbeams
 Fliping the bird and screaming obscenities
 A murderous hoard hell-bent on Saturday
 And so they continued, west-bound and into the sun
 Law and decorum constraining nary a one
 By then it was devil-may-care
 Not one even vaguely aware
 That they had come all the way to the Delaware Water Gap
 How had it happened? They had all missed their exits
 How had it happened? Was it some kind of vortex?
 And in they all went, bumper to bumper
 Faster and faster, no sign of a trooper
 In they all went, like sheep to the slaughter
 Bankers and carpenters, doctors and lawyers
 And in they all went, families in minivans
 Regan republicans, weekend militiamen
 They followed the river, and rounded the bend
 Between minsi and tammany and into their destiny
 Lying in ambush right their before them
 The angry old sun right on the horizon
 Sister Maria tightened the bolts of the spare
 She said a quick prayer and put the old van into gear
 Thank God that the traffic was light
 If she hurried she might not be late
 For that evening's performance at the state penetentiary
 She entered the common room and their was her choir
 Altos and baritones, basses and tenors
 Car thieves and crack dealers, mobsters and murderers
 Husbands and sons, fathers and brothers
 So it began in glorious harmony
 Softly and tenderly, calling for you and me
 With the interstate whining way off in the distance
 And the sun going down through the bars of the prison
 They poured out their souls, they poured out their memories
 They poured out their hopes for what's left of eternity
 To sister Maria, her soul like a prism
 For the light of forgiveness on all of their faces