That i would have loads of you by the time i'm frail.
That i wouldn't spend a lifetime chasing you and end up grasping the wind.
It's gonna be really hard to pay for you without sins.
Since without you there is no bread in my mouth, no shoes on my feet, no cloth to give warmth... to an extent, no life to live for.
Torn between the shortcuts of the #ChaChe boys to climbing up the ladder slowly and steadily through modest means like scrubbing floors.
May my eyes be vigilant enough to recognize windows of opportunity rather than waiting for open doors.
That i'd rather be strategic and not fall for the intimidations of aimless showoffs.
That i remain grounded, that i never walk with my shoulders all puffed.
That i finally catchup with you and lock you in a bone crushing embrace.
That at the end of the day... without giving away my soul... i complete this race.