Like the race ain't for the swiftest nor the fight ain't for the fittest,
Not but those who can endure it will pass the white line.
Not in time but by time, to see the boasting and the fastest struggle to the finish line.
Dribbling like dog mouth slime, and sweating like sour juice from a squeezed lime.

They fumble and fall before our feet.
Tired and burnt out like tasty fried chicken meat.
One last time I look down and see their distasteful grin upon their face,
Because the fastest wins the short distance pace but the endured wins the entire race.