The wheels skid over the floor's pavement
That afternoon in the skate park
They would observe with amusement
To the task one of them would embark
The tail hits and the skate takes off
The snickers brush the board grip tape
As he watches the spectacle aloft
A kick flip seems to be going in shape
Missing by a few inches to land on it
Falls shoulders first over the concrete
The faces around wrinkle seeing the hit
He stands up picking the board to repeat
He tried without success that afternoon
Until in the sky appeared the moon

His friends follow him to get some beers
A six pack would suffice for each of them
They open the cans, toasting saying cheers
In a parking lot without patrol men
One tells our skater that he should stop
Otherwise he'll end up breaking a leg
Others agree saying his knees might pop
If not, might be his shoulders or his neck
He finishes his can in silence
Replies that he won't give up regardless
Despite not having landed it once
As his skin is far from one scarless
A patrol man crosses round the corner
They hop on the boards, fleeing from there

Our skater enter into his bedroom
Turns the lights on as he passes the switch
He eats some ice cream with a spoon
Then sits in his bed making a small twitch
A plaster cast hangs over a room wall
On a frame filled with signatures
Next to Rodney Mullen posters and dolls
From different skaters and a minuter
He takes off his pants looking his knee
That has a recent scar from a past wound
As he applies cream he makes a plea
For it to heal fast to do another round
He lays in his bed looking a poster
Covering himself as it got colder

Next day to the skatepark he went
His friends arrived hours earlier that day
They bought water from some nearby tent
Over the grass they saw him as they lay
He greet them with their secret handshake
One asks him if he will try it again
He replies he knows what is at stake
But he will keep trying until then
He jumps in his skate as he starts to roll
As he gains speed, he hits the skate's tail
In the middle he starts losing control
Lands the tail, hitting his head as he fail
Covers his head when blood spills on the floor
His friends approach, but leaves before

The night arrives with the bright street lights
Blood in his face shines with flares
With his board hanging on his side arm
He walks through the alleys and the avenues
People walk next to him seeing his face
One stopped giving him a tissue
Cleaning himself with a slowed pace
Our skater left when asked for the issue
Returned to the skatepark at dawn  
Nobody but him has arrived yet
He attempted the trick he wants to own
When he landed it, he payed his debt
His friends found him over the floor sleeping
Other skaters started practicing