The merge from the turnpike was murder, but it’s never a cinch 
It was Friday at five, and no one was giving an inch 
They squeezed and the edged and they glared 
Half them clearly impaired by rage or exhaustion 
The rest were just touchy as hell 

Somewhere near Paterson everything slowed to a crawl 
The all-news station was thanking someone for the call 
It’s a van from St. Agnes’s choir 
There’s a nun out there changing a tire 
By the time they got by her, tempers were out of control 

So they all hit the gas in a dash for position 
Bobing and weaving and flashing their highbeams 
Fliping the bird and screaming obscenities 
A well-insured hoard hell-bent on Saturday 

And so they continued west-bound and into the sun 
Law and decorum constraining nary a one 
By then it was devil-may-care 
Not one even vaguely aware 
That they had come all the way to the Delaware Water Gap 

But how had it happened? They had all missed their exits 
How had it happened? Was it some kind of vortex? 
And in they all went, bumper to bumper 
Faster and faster, no sign of a trooper 
Bankers and carpenters, doctors and lawyers 
And in they all went, families in minivans 
Ashcroft republicans, weekend militiamen 
They followed the river, and rounded the bend 
Between minsi and tammany and into their destiny 
Lying in ambush right their before them 
The angry old sun right on the horizon 

Sister Maria tightened the bolts of the spare 
She said a quick prayer and put the old van into gear 
Thank God that the traffic was light 
If she hurried she might not be late 
For that evening’s performance at the state penetentiary 

She entered the common room and their was her choir 
Altos and baritones, basses and tenors 
Car thieves and crack dealers, mobsters and murderers 
Husbands and sons, fathers and brothers 
And so it began in glorious harmony 
Softly and Tenderly – calling for you and me 
With the interstate whining way off in the distance 
And the sun going down through the bars of the prison 
They poured out their souls, they poured out their memories 
They poured out their hopes for what’s left of eternity 
To sister Maria – her soul like a prism 
For the light of forgiveness on all of their faces