I thought I'd roll this tired old thing out again. Of course, with some minor tweaks...
Twas the night before football, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The fresh beer was chilling, in the cooler with care,
In the hopes that Bills football soon would be there.
The players were all nestled, by curfew in bed,
while visions of Super Bowls, danced in their heads.
Some mama in her G-string, and I in my thong,
Drank too much tequila, 'till the night was long gone.
When out in the den, there arose such a clatter.
I sprang from my bed, to see what was the matter.
Away to the couch, I stumbled and tripped,
grabbed the remote, and cursed when it slipped.
The sun on the blades, of the fresh painted lawn,
Gave luster of football, the waiting was gone.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
A powerhouse team, and Bills Mafia with beer.
With a refocused coach, adding Bobby and Joe,
We’re hoping to see, one hell of a show,
More proven than Cardinals, their warriors they came,
They whistled, clapped, and shouted their names...
Now Dalton, Now James, Now Curtis and Josh,
On Bernard, on Rousseau, on Miller and Jones,
Turn up your game, for there’s a new rally cry,
And it’s growing quite loud, “JUST ONE BEFORE I DIE!”