Meet the freest man on Earth.
Ignore his overwhelming girth,
His vacant stare, his piglike snout--
He knows what life is all about.

Encased in seven tons of steel,
Propped up on fifty-eight inch wheels,
He's free to choose where he will go!
(So long as it's on public roads.)

Despite his many heart diseases,
Mister Free goes where he pleases.
Overpasses! Parking spaces!
He's seen a million flat, grey places!

To serve his transit predilections,
The pavement stretches in all directions.
Without a thought, he will campaign
To fallen schools for freeway lanes.

When kids are crushed or bikers clipped,
He worries that his paint was chipped.
When foreigners are killed en masse,
He frets about the price of gas.

Yet Mister Freedom is oppressed.
Pedestrians! Those awful pests.
They have the gall to roam the streets
With nothing but their own two feet!

They ask for speedbumps! Biking lanes!
Denser homes and bullet trains!
Such ingrates! They should live in fear
When Mister Freedom's truck is near!

How dare you question his lifestyle?
He likes to drive a dozen miles
Just to buy a loaf of bread
Why can't you get that through your head?

He doesn't have to exercise!
His way of life is subsidized!
Why should Mister Freedom care
For safety, health, or cleaner air?

Yes, Mister Freedom knows what's best
For him, for you, for all the rest.
Beware, all those who come between
This noble man and his machine!