BLIND RUN

It's not like anyone expects a motorway through their home
It wasn't until I stepped away and looked at it from another angle that I could even see it
All that time, suffocating from noxious fumes
The spinning wheels, the gunning engines
The posing and posturing
Clichés hurtling at each other, night after night
A chicken race under a stolen moon

Did it stop the clock?
Doesn't look that way

Explains the skid marks though...