The Boston driver's prayer

With little else to do during a monumental turnpike backup last week, Liz composed a prayer that begins:

Oh merciful heavens, hear my cry! Your child mourns in the dark valley of the Turnpike, and wails upon the stones of 128, and gnashes her teeth and heaps ashes upon her head when she hath the folly to attempt Route 9 as an alternate route. Oh, maketh my lane to clear, oh Lord! ...