Twas the night before game day, And all through the Ville, Willie Williams’ brain sputtered, “should I assault, kill, or steal?”;
The jerseys were hung by the Cards lockers with care, Coaches praying that come morning, bail bonds would be fair; The players were nestled, all snug in their beds, While visions of Woodyard pounded their heads;
My cooler filled with beer, my flask filled with Beam, My heart filled with hatred for the red and black team Their bandwagon fans, shouted out in a chorus, “Come on! You respect us! We drive a Ford Taurus!”
To the top ten in the nation, they arose like a flash, Hoping that no one would notice, their defense was trash. Just like all of their transfers, they don’t make a big fuss, Whether its IQs or points allowed, they accept forty plus.
They traveled to Lex town, from their hot ghetto mess, With B. Brohm, their leader, pounding his chest, His leadership in question, can he run the show? Will the team take his orders, from someone not their P.O.?
Kragthorpe and coaches and their fifteen minutes of fame, Whistled and shouted, and called plays out by name;” Now, Willie! Get the ball- it’s that thing that is brown !If they block you, just resist em’, like when the police take you down!”
Pursuit give em’ chase, don’t quit til they fall! Why does Willie keep screamin’, from the window to the wall! D-Backs go to man, Willie, watch the snap!, Does the director from Life Goes On have to deal with this crap!?!”
So to Commonwealth they came, fair-weather fans all in tow, With degrees they obtained, from driving by campus real slow. With Red on their sweaters, and shame underneath, They all missed their exits, for shame, they can’t read.
Brohm’s uni was all tattered, with mud, chalk, and turf; His face slightly less bloody, than when he came out at birth His Heisman forgotten, his body in pain, At the end of his performance, Britney Spears felt ashamed.
When the final horn sounds, look for the Cats with a win, The Nation erupting, and Coach Brooks with a grin, He’ll have three TDs passing and Woodson runs for another, DLJ puts up two, and once with somebody’s mother.
Cardinals beware, you’re now in our sights, And ya better tighten up those chin straps, its gonna be a long night.