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