Acting hip as you slip in the stream
Get a grip you’re a blip on their screen
But a clone from the bone of the beam
Has been known to be thrown in between
Pull the ring on the string of the seam
Hear it sing everything in the scene
It’s been sold by the gold plated gleam
Standing tall by the wall painted green
Planning sound as you pound out the scheme
Patted round after ground by machine
We compete for the sweet rising cream
The new meat on the street coming clean
Once they roam from the home of the team
Quickly grown to the tone of a teen