The clock is ticking,
Blood coursing through the veins,
Your wet shirt sticking,
That sweat is gonna stain.
The drums are pounding,
You can hear it in your head
The road is winding,
Pale face is flushing red.
The pain is throbbing,
It finds its way to you
Hell bent on robbing
Victory, but you push through
You can’t stop it now,
They think you’re insane
You never question how,
Just one thing remains:
What are you getting ready for?
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