Verse 1:

The highway was filled with rush hour's throng
It shone with a thousand lights
The cars all moved slowly… most inched along
Just like they do every night
The traffic was merging from eastward side
Fourteen of us in that band
When a cherry-red "Beemer" pulled close beside
From the window appeared a hand

Chorus:
He showed me the bird; He was filled with rage
And pointed it right at me
Smooth suit-and-tie Yuppie with wavy hair
Young snot: Doing ninety-three
This lad, missing link? So debased and trite
'Haps barely past anal stage
Rather snooty and bold; uncontrolled, all told
Lower de-velopmental age

Verse 2:

My honor besmirched; marred rest of eve
On couch sat forlorn, depressed
For manners declining, I sometimes grieve
Too sensitive, I confess
The future it represents: stark and grave
Behaviors rude, rash, obscene…
Are quite commonly captured without request -
Then 'round globe in an instant, seen

Chorus:

So don't flip the bird when you feel enraged
Your duty: Polite to be
Some young whippersnapper may film you there
With latest technology
They can, in a wink, cut and paste your life
On YouTube or Facebook page
And as curses unfold, millions can behold
Your absurdness on worldwide stage