A dime on the floor is dirtier
than a penny on the table
Another race that's only run
By who is young and
Who is able, and
It's hard to differentiate
Who is tied up
in a stable
As all our backs are sore
And our losing legs are shameful, but
Let it not discourage thee, thou, or
You
There's a faster racer running
Passing, beating without shoes
There is no flag attached
No podium or pew
Just some blood
Some wood and ash
Running through and through
There is a sun
And it rises
And further,
The world still spins
We run around it for
Gold and prizes
But our own strength
will never win
it.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
A dime on the floor is dirtier
than a penny on the table
Another race that's only run
By who is young and
Who is able, and
It's hard to differentiate
Who is tied up
in a stable
As all our backs are sore
And our losing legs are shameful, but
Let it not discourage thee, thou, or
You
There's a faster racer running
Passing, beating without shoes
There is no flag attached
No podium or pew
Just some blood
Some wood and ash
Running through and through
There is a sun
And it rises
And further,
The world still spins
We run around it for
Gold and prizes
But our own strength
will never win
it.
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