Clambering up,
Whilst being pulled back down,
By Grasping hands of the crowd
As you start to stand out,
Sweaty, dirty, greasy hands
Trying to get a grip,
Hoping they will pull you down
Or maybe you will slip.
Word up peeps,
I am breaking out
And i am never coming back down,
So take one last look
My backside is the last you’ll see of me.
fauxcroft 
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