What is that smell in the air?

Is that the smell of the malt from my favourite whisky?
Or the smell of the burning tobacco of my cigarette?
No it's stronger, older, older than me, older than our race.

Is it the smell of a freshly killed carcass?
No, now I know, its the smell of the prey that is running away.

Yeah, its the smell of the age-old game
Between the prey and the predator.
I know it,
The adrenalin pumps more,
The heart beats faster,
The breath comes shorter.
i smile and cringe at the same time.

I smell the smell of fear,
The smell of sweat and grime,
The smell of sweet success,
The smell of failure,
The smell of life,
The smell of death.

It doesn’t matter who is the prey or the predator,
It doesn’t matter who is the winner or the loser.
It’s the smell of uncertainty,
The smell of fate.

But hey, time please,
Before the game starts,
Can I smell the whisky,
And take a gulp at it?
Can I light a cigarette,
And smell the tobacco?
For I don't know if I will ever smell them again.