The Last Thing On Your Mind

At the junction too late for the turning, you’ll get banned, you’ll get banned.
With the map of the route you were learning, in your hand, in your hand.
	You started to turn without a signal of intent
	See the debris you left far behind.
	To cut up those two cyclists was ever so unkind
	It was cruel, but you don’t seem to mind.

	You are going away to a ten by eight cell
	All your freedoms are left far behind
	You caused a ten-car pile up watching that girl’s behind
	I know that was the last thing on your mind.

As I walk along the street you keep turning, round and round, round and round.
Leave the roundabout and head down the subway, underground, underground.
	Are you travelling by rail without leaving your car?
	It’s not meant for road traffic you’ll find.
	If you don’t get off the track before the express comes along.
	You’ll end up looking just like bacon rind.

	You are going away . . .

You’ve got reasons a-plenty for driving, this I know, this I know.
But the way you’re going there’ll be no arriving, please drive slow, please drive slow!
	Are you going away in that wreck of a car,
	With no lights, not in front nor behind?
	The tyres are so bald, you’ll never stop in time,
	Even though the brakes have been relined.

	You are going away . . .

As I lie in my bed cased in plaster, thanks to you, thanks to you, 
I’m lucky to be here and not hereafter, ’cos of you, ’cos of you.
	Did you have to drive off while I was reaching in the boot
	Without checking the mirror behind?
	I’ll never touch a car again, if I get out alive,
	You know that was the last thing on my mind.

	You are going away . . .