Sister, my game is life on my terms.
Brother, my game is terms on my life.
Two people looking, yearning and lying a lot
Each one playing a part practiced, recited, and lived
In another time countless destinies ago.
If I told you about love would you care?
If I loved you without telling would you know?
The game goes on.

Everyone shrieking I don’t play games, at half time.Back court presses as images pass themselves off as realities
And realities go unnoticed save a few who are too tired for the third quarter.
Truth is the most valuable player and everyone thinks he’s a promising newcomer.

Many understand the rudiments of basketball.
Isn’t life a fast break, four quarter game?
Cheered by some, booed by others and the score Forgotten next week, save by a few.