An ambulance at the crossroads   the crossroads in the city   and no one will let it through   though its lights are streaming every hue   and the bleeder in the back thinks   "This is the moment of my death;   I'm about to die in a traffic jam   and everyone's so angry at me   because I have the nerve to die right here,   because maybe they'll miss things at home on tv."      You are at the crossroads   the crossroads in the city   and no one will let you through   though you've waited hours in the queue   and the phone in your backpack rings, PICK IT UP, cause you'll be late   call your wife and tell her that   she should save you something to eat   because you're caught here looking at the blood in the street   rushing past the tires and the trash and the feet.