Beginning of something changable

Sand goes out. . . . from under each
climbing step I make

never reaching solid ground
going till every muscles aches

I am red.
I am red.

There is no top, no great prize at the end.
Just a grey road
with an occasional bend.

Just a grey road, just a grey road....

I am so patient but I hate the concept of time
oh how I hate the concept of time

because
There is no top
theres is not end
there is no prize
There is no top.

There is no prize, there is no prize, there is no prize...
except catching that look in your eyes.

Theres is no prize in keeping up with this lie.