Old things had to make way for the new
Pulling back on the lever, the wrecking ball swung and smashed into the wall
Everywhere the ball hit, destruction reigned
Reducing the old structure into historic rubble
And she knew she was good at what she was doing
The crane danced to her choreography, each pirouette punctuated by the boom of connection
Enabling her to place the final period to that building’s story
Dancing beneath the huge mirror ball
Its reflections allows the light to dance among us
Sound escaping from the speakers driving our bodies into
Contortions of limbs and torsos while
Outside the 70’s became an inferno
Risking it all on a forty-footer
And as the basketball left her hand, the clocks went to all zeroes
Now it was now all physics, the skill was already committed
Google clutch, and it would show this shot if it goes in
Everyone waited seemingly forever as the ball bounced on the rim once, twice…
Like being the king of my domain
I prowl back and forth, roaring to show how big and bad I am
Oh sure I may be scary and intimidating with all these sharp teeth, but
No one said I wouldn’t play with a ball of yarn if given a chance.
The start to an ordeal is never easy
Reaching down deep to find the follow through can be painful
It can make you want to turn back, give up, curl up in a ball
And yet, there is so much awaiting you on the other end of it all
Look, you know it won’t be easy but…
Success is usually worth the price of admission
Balls doing acrobatics down the hardwood lanes
Outside the second arrow trying to find the pocket
When in reality my ball does what it wants
Leaving me more pins than I can spare.
How many times can you hit that ball off the wall?
You getting annoyed by it?
Please, for goodness sake, yes!
Even if I change the rhythm?
Reaching out and grabbing the ball. “Enough!”
Releasing a string of curses
Everything was going wrong
Now he looked at the ball as it began to fall
Eventually, the world would know his incompetence
When the ball landed one second early
Francisco pulled out his putter and gave his brother the bird
Every year this golf game determines the honor of who hosted Christmas.
Under that sort of pressure, Francisco watched his brother step to the ball
Don’t you know it. Francisco sneezed just as his brother swung
The ball tumbled to the ground, forgotten for the moment
Under the garish yellow streetlights the batter still took a swing
Ravaging the Demon’s knife man’s rib cage with a sickening thud
Finally the contest was called on the account of sirens