Tap into the rhythm of the passersby
If they listen do I win, or do I die?
Ambitious drop zones carry your bitchin’ tune
While many fall victim to impending doom
Criminals are made, from all these pages torn
It’s you and me brother against elites born
One sniff of the leaders’ board leaves a foul smell,
do the math, you have a snow balls chance in hell.
As for a path to start I submit the above three
but add a fourth that $750 grand you will need
and as that hunger pain in your gizzard rumbles
It won’t hurt a bit if Art Linkletter is your uncle…
Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell
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