Tuesday, July 04, 2006

No point simply to straddle along
Quick, quick! Clamber up, bugger
To catch up with the rest of them
You must drum up that killer instinct.

There’s always room at the top
And when nothing short of sky is the limit
It certainly pays to be ambitious
And be in the pursuit of excellence.

Even if fame lasts for only fifteen minutes
Everything is fair in the age of unreason
Beg, borrow or steal, whatever you can
For heaven’s sake, somebody become.

Hell with to be in the queue
One must become at least a who’s who
Once there, you must learn a small trick
To pull the rug from under the others’ feet.

Nobody would offer it on a platter
You must do your own positioning
To be able to snatch when the chance comes
And grab it for as long as you prefer.

It is a curse to be at the receiving end
Hierarchy, a hard fact of life as of Nature
To be upward mobile is of course a virtue
But an inward gaze is infinitely better, still.

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