What's the point of a race
If you're not an ace
Just embrace your disgrace
You can't keep up the pace

No trace of your practise took place
What's grace now ain't the process
It's the blaze of the podium's stances
So just graze upon your downtown phase


I know you're fazed
Just bowdown and embrace
Your defeats, carresed
Can't stay careless, but it's headles

Your glory isn't victorious
Agony might feel rigorous
Isn't that obvious?
Intense and oblivious