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Final Season Ending Game by Tom Agayoff
(To be sung to the melody of Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down written by Kris Kristofferson and sung by Johnny Cash) Well I woke up Sunday morning Thinking in my head That I could win Thursday night's performance by Drew Brees Was so bad I thought might have a chance. Then I mumbled to myself bout my chances s'not good to think about. And I shaved my face And combed my hair And trotted down the hall to face my fate. I'd racked my brain the night before With Ce' vers and Backs That I've been switch-en' Pow-ered up my Lap Top, and wai-ted with eager an-ti-ca-pa-tion'. Assessed the forty points on Thurs-day- 3 hun-dred minutes left eyeing pan-ic-stricken And I look back on the sea-son At games I'd lost somehow not trading along the way. On the Sun-day Mor-ning fi-nal sea-son end-ing show-down Cause there's something in this Sunday That makes a player feel alone And there's nothing short of crying Half as irksome or profound with those final seconds on Monday and the season crashing down.
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