As
history hangs heavily in the warm summer air
and the most civilised meeting of nations repair
to the heart of the motherland still resolute
the Olympian dream is in disrepute
a long-running drug-fuelled
multi-layered story
wraps those who are stealing the ultimate glory
it’s no longer the grafters who’ll
run ‘til they drop
but those who’ve got access to the best
chemist’s shop
nowhere to somewhere,
a scream to a sigh
from out of the running to flying high
but every achievement is called into question
by those with an interest in athletes’
ingestion
but as the shock sinks
in there’s a quiet satisfaction
among the cleansing agents in the front line
action
who regularly take the piss during well-aimed
tests
sorting out who’s hiding what under their
vests
perhaps we need to look
beyond the wealth and the fame
and the almost-unbelievable time and time again
for the reasons that so many are willing to
yield
just to compete on a level playing field
they’ve got to
get a grip of this but where do you draw the
line
I’ve heard a cup of ginseng tea could
be a crime
and all those pumped-up additives causing all
kinds of aggro
to those off their heads who don’t even
know
in this pick n’
mix counter culture it’s not always clear
which everyday pick-me-ups can stuff a career
and the purely psychological - imagine the deal
if a Boots bonus card was keepin’ it real
there’d be places
in races
for big smiley faces
brought on by Senatogen abuse
the Germoloid wide-eyed
would crack open a broad stride
as the multivits worked themselves loose
and then like a bat out
of nowhere
some puny little bloke from the back
could do 0-60 in three and half seconds
speeding on Fiery Jack
and snorting a Beecham’s Powder
prescribed for athlete’s foot
proves a well-oiled sprint’s deceptive
‘cos someone else made the cut
and those heavy-legged
non-productive runs
that prevent true class from showing
could be sorted by an assortment of laxatives
to get the slow motions flowing
to be the fastest on
earth is the ultimate aim
if you want to reach the zenith, the top of
the game
itching for the starting gun, imagine the thrill
if you could break all records on Vagisil
but
those anointed with greatness and those that
are clean
the finely-tuned fully committed flying machines
can take some consolation from the Greek word
catharsis
and put these other people on the bones of their
arses
‘cos cheats never prosper, they can run
but never hide
and when judgement day arrives and these two
world’s collide
only those on adrenalin will exceed their limit
and test positive for pure Corinthian spirit
