Highway
lyrics by Aaron Ondek

Driving to the paper mill.
Driving in an Xterra.

Driving down the highway.
Enjoying Octothorpe on the radio.

In the rear view an unusual sight.
A black van with white lettering.

How often does one see a SWAT team van?
Out on the highway zooming by.

It is coming up quick and from behind.
Its black glossiness filling the rear view.

It bumps the bumper with a crunch.
Tires go squealing into a skid.

Right by the Route 99 sign, sliding to a stop.
The SWAT doors burst open; shotguns are there.

Tasting gravel as arms are wrenched with handcuffs.
A black bag over the head, unconsciousness ensues.

[Chorus]

I'm a lonely pawn.
My execution.

Its not high density.
Black op conspiracy.

What have I done?
Thermoplastic polution.

My lifes on delay.
Back on the highway.

[End Chorus]

[Chorus]

The court date is set.
Apparently it is today.

The bag is removed, lights shine.
They say that plastic is had.

The whole case is a giant sham.
Convicted before anyone takes the stand.

What to do when nothing has been done?
Type 5 Polypropylene, shackles are added.

Taken from the court house.
There is no press, no flash bulbs.

Placed on a prison bus.
At least there is no bag now.

On the highway again, driving past the scene.
There are interlacing rubber marks laid on the road.

The gray concreate is like a scarf on the hilltop.
Barbed wire and sharpshooters decorate the complex.

[Chorus]

[Interlude]

Its griminess is awful.
Even the rats aren't fed.

Most of the inmates are dead.
Drawings of camels are abound.

People wonder why you can't stay.
The escape is planned for today.

Digging a tunnel, digging with a spoon.
The dirt is wet and smells like cats.

The ease of escape could be better.
Plastic could have been on hand.

The outer wall has been breached.
Inmates run for the access road.

Sprinting down the highway.
Passing it again is non-coincidental.

If only the concerns were not so high.
Having the recycled plastic was not the way.

[Chorus]