You’re going to have to slow down
You know
You’ll have to pace yourself a bit
Get that massage
Skip that gravy and dessert
Take more walks
Make time to live at a slower pace
You can’t take it in
As fast as then
When you zipped down the highway
Windows down
The Beatles turned up
“Good morning, good morning, good!”
Your head full of colored fog
With a roach in the ashtray
And both eyes open
One on the speedometer
And the other on that cop
In the rearview mirror