It's electric friction beneath the feet
Like stockcars locked on the inevitable path
Matching until meters burst
Exceeding the limit and flying off the track
With powerful pinpoints and frustrating fault lines
And the breaking of makeup on the skin most bold
It is a poker face across the way
And the frustrations of knowing that the crowd turns cold
Whenever you've failed to play perfectly within the fold
Tennis
Is the realization that you are IT, and all that which influences the bouncing ball