4. Race (A Verse).

Some run slow, some run fast
Each one has a difference pace

A slow-down makes me turn blue
To be happy, I speed-up the chase

I always wait for that time when
I am supposed to get a salary raise

I get influenced by others and then
strive to build a so-called “own” grace

I crib about being oily and dark but
Black will be the smoke from my face

I long to sleep on a golden bed
Ultimately, I’ll sleep on wooden base

I don’t realize that wherever I go
All roads lead to the same place

Funeral home is the final point
which puts an end to the race