There are a lot of things that frustrate me. I get frustrated when I have to wait at a red light.

I've stopped racing to get to the red light.

I work six months and get three or four with the family. I've stopped racing to get to the red light.

How does Sting know she doesn’t have to turn on the red light? I bet under different circumstances she’d love not to put on the red light, but she’s got bills to pay. If he’s telling her she doesn’t have to turn on the red light, he needs to offer an alternative. I’d appreciate Sting’s suggestion more if he followed, “You don’t have to sell your body to the night,” with “because I found you a stable nine-to-five that comes with benefits, a dental plan, and a matching 401K.

I don't like to hurt people, I really don't like it at all. But in order to get a red light at the intersection, you sometimes have to have an accident.

Light is a metaphoric thing. There is green light and red light. Then there is black light, which is mostly danger.