If Everyone
If everyone who drives a car
Could lie a month in bed,
With broken bones and stitched up wounds,
Or fractures of the head,
And there endure the agonies
That many people do,
They'd never need preach safety
Any more to me or you.
If everyone could stand beside
The bed of some close friend
And hear the doctor say “No hope”
Before the fatal end,
And see him there unconscious
Never knowing what took place,
The laws and rules of traffic
I'm sure we'd soon embrace.
If everyone could meet
The wife and children left behind
And step into the darkened home
Where once the sunlight shined,
And look upon “that vacant chair”,
Where daddy used to sit
I'm sure each reckless driver
Would be forced to think a bit.
If everyone who takes the wheel
Would say a little prayer,
And keep in mind those in the car
Depending upon his care
And make a vow and pledge himself
To never take a chance,
This (our) great crusade for safety
Would suddenly advance.