All-Stars

We run shit.

Like track stars underneath the friday night lights in a field of dreams.

Its our duty to make this look effortless...and we're good at it...admit it.

We prance around like we created cool, and your lives are highlighted by our grace, our precision, our style.

In our hearts we carry ambition and on our sleeves we carry labels.

With an impeccable record how else would you expect us to act?

Sauntering around on the ground you should be worshipping, we ooze confidence.

Heads to the sky like it would be painful to look you in the eyes.

We can't possibly be from around here...can we?

Of course not.

You can tell from the twinkle, as if we stole the stars just to dazzle you with eye contact.

We occupy our time expanding our minds and demanding the lime...

Light like the switch won't go off, cocky like we have it all to show off, smiling in your face just to piss you off.

We made the bar, and we set it so high, there's no use in reaching.

We are all-stars. And we don't lose.

(A special shout out to Colin Taylor for the photo.)