John was killed on the motorway today

His wife was taking the kids to school

She had waved him goodbye that morning

Death came later, without any warning

 

They had a tentative arrangement for lunch

So they’d left their options open

And later, so the reporter said on the evening news

No other words were spoken

 

A boy racer cut him up so they foolishly decided to race

And you can’t always see the outcome, when you hand over your life to fate

Police said he was dead on arrival so traffic was diverted around

While his body lay under a sheet, traffic built up in town

 

Calls to his mobile went unanswered, left on his answer machine

One said ‘I love you John, I’ll try and make it for lunch’

The restaurant waited as long as they could before giving the table away

There was a bit of a rush on for lunch that day.

 

Poor Katie had to leave school early

Her Mother was understandably upset

She kept on asking why

After all, it was only a Tuesday, and so near Christmas;

why did anyone have to die?