Kingston Bridge

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The Kingston bridge at rush hour
Traffic standing still
I know that I'll get home some time
Perhaps I never will

Perched up high above the Clyde
The sparkling river flickers
Sitting inside of my steed of steel
A slow boat would prove quicker

A bottle neck
Some have said
A narrow corked up lane
Lift the lid
We're all released
Pouring out again

A rare event the sun bakes us
As transmissions stuck in neutral
The chance to just get out and walk
Would prove dangerous
Pointless, futile

So patience holds us prisoner
A stationary dance  ensues
A fag for him
A coke for you
The radio plays us news
Songs from charts reverberate
As CD's spin there tunes

Moving now
Building speed
The gears are climbed with ease
The sweeping turn of the motorway
We'll get home in the end

The Kingston bridge at rush hour
Will drive you round the bend
I know that I got home last night
Tonight I surely will.

AGL



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