It is what I do.
Outrunning you.
Running from you all.
Fully ignoring your call.
One by one I see you outpaced.
One by one from my view erased.
Faster than fastest fast.
Faster than you can outlast.
No family, no friends.
Lonesome the soul mends.
Got no time for you people’s mind.
Not in my own tireless endless grind.
I leave you all behind.
Because you are not my kind.
In you I can nothing find.
No, you people are not my kind.
