Standing at the horizontal line,
the goal is right before he.
The spot light, on he, it shines.
He hopes to make this, its his last plea.

The black and white blinds,
throw him the globe.
Thoughts in his head of all kinds.
The pressure he tries not to absorb.

The statues before him, squat down,
ready for him to fail.
In salt water he seems to drown.
The globe is through the goal, he prevails!

The statues seem to be upset.
They attack with their arms wide.
Yet he seemed to see no threat
and his arms out to met them, in mid stride.

The opposite statues fall to the floor.
The attack of him seems to kill them.
It seems to shake them to the core.
Later the chief came to commend.

A prize of gold is carried forth
and given to the survivors.
They and their victim held it to the north,
where they is a big crowd of long way drivers.

The drivers erupt in screams and yells,
the prize of gold is theirs and no one besides.
Title holder on the prize, it spells.
Now the new group of royalty presides.