Watching the turtle walk, one slow step at a time
Making his way in life, marching at his own pace
Realizing that speed is not always the base
To a perfect ending for a grateful sublime

Finishing with a rush while no timely savour
Of the acts before you and the playing concert
To go from the highlights without kicking up dirt
All in good intentions but lacking the flavour

Smelling the red roses in a garden of haze
Flooding of memories of your grandma's perfume
Remember the moments that made you smile and bloom

Looking out at the kids playing on the Sundays
The time has passed over and your body now shakes
Wasted all energy on the silly mistakes.